Chapter 8
The heavy wooden front doors slammed shut, cutting off the wail of the police sirens as silence returned to the mansion.
Daniel dropped heavily onto the bottom step of the grand staircase, burying his face in his trembling hands.
"She's gone... and now I have nothing," Daniel whispered, his shoulders shaking with genuine despair.
Arthur stood over his son, his shadow stretching long across the gleaming marble floor.
"You had everything a man could ever dream of, Daniel, and you threw it away for a cruel, shallow stranger," Arthur said quietly.
"You watched your own flesh and blood freeze in the snow, and you didn't lift a finger."
"For that crime, you are no longer my son."
Arthur turned his back on Daniel, walking slowly toward the west wing elevator to check on his beloved grandson.
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"Leave this estate before sunrise, Daniel," Arthur added over his shoulder without breaking his stride.
"If I ever see your face in this house again, I won't call the police—I'll handle it myself."
