Chapter 2 - The Malice Behind the Velvet Push
The heavy wheels of the mechanical chair ground harshly against the wet travertine tiles of the rooftop.
Clara felt the sudden bite of cold nylon cutting into her ribs as the safety restraint held her firmly in place.
Behind her, the sharp rhythm of stiletto heels echoed with terrifying deliberate precision.
Victoria stood over her like a crimson shadow against the dying golden hour, her blonde locks catching the fading sun.
Clara gasped for air, her trembling palms pressing instinctively against the swollen contour of her eight-month belly.
She turned her neck as far as the rigid headrest permitted, pleading with wide, horrified eyes.
Victoria did not blink, her painted scarlet lips curling into a cold, merciless sneer.
Every ounce of family loyalty had vanished beneath decades of festering jealousy and unspoken greed.
The penthouse terrace felt agonizingly vast, devoid of witnesses or warmth beneath the towering glass facade.
The city sprawled beneath them in dizzying shades of copper and violet, thousands of feet away from salvation.
Clara whispered her sister-in-law’s name, but the word choked into a desperate sob in her throat.
Victoria’s manicured hands gripped the rubber handles of the wheelchair with ruthless, deliberate force.
The mechanical locks had already been disengaged with a sickening click that only Victoria had planned.
The scent of expensive rose perfume mixed nauseatingly with the sharp, chemical tang of chlorine from the infinity pool.
There was no hesitation in the older woman’s stance, only the raw calculation of someone eradicating a bloodline.
Clara felt the initial forward jolt as Victoria shoved with the full momentum of her tall, athletic frame.
The pale-blue silk of Clara’s maternity dress rippled wildly in the gust of high-altitude wind.
Metal castors squealed in protest against the slick stone, rapidly eating away the few remaining feet of deck.
Clara’s fingernails clawed uselessly at the smooth vinyl armrests, searching for any lever or brake.
She screamed into the open sky, but the roaring penthouse breeze swallowed her terror whole.
The shimmering blue surface of the rooftop pool surged into Clara’s direct field of vision.
Victoria leaned forward, whispering a venomous final curse directly into the crown of Clara’s brunette hair.
The front wheels hovered for a microsecond over the coping stone before dropping into empty air.
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Clara felt the terrible weight of gravity shift, tilting her entire world toward total destruction.
Her breath stopped completely as the horizon tilted, sky giving way to the cold mirror of chlorinated water.
