Chapter 6 - The Dark History Of The Mercer Family Vaults
The two burly security guards flanked Viktor on either side, their dark suits contrasting sharply against the bright coastal morning. "Take Celestine and the child back to the main house," Viktor commanded without looking at them.
"Don't you dare touch her!" Maren screamed, lunging forward before a heavy hand grabbed her shoulder. One of the guards pinned Maren’s arms to her sides with effortless, practiced brute strength.
Celestine turned on her heel, trying to sprint down the narrow side trail leading back toward the wedding marquee. "Run, Elodie! Don't look back!" Celestine cried out as the second guard easily intercepted her path.
"Foolish girl," Viktor muttered, watching the struggle with cold detachment from his walking cane. Maren fought against the guard's grip, kicking and twisting until her designer heels snapped against the rocks.
"Let me go, you bastards!" Maren yelled, her voice breaking as she watched Elodie being pulled away. Viktor walked over to Maren, lifting her chin with his cold, bony fingers to force eye contact.
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"Your grandfather built the foundation of this estate on stolen land and forged maritime deeds," Viktor whispered darkly. "And your daughter's blood is the final signature required to lock those vaults forever."
Maren spat directly into the old man's face, a desperate act of defiance against his absolute tyranny. Viktor wiped his cheek slowly with a silk handkerchief, his expression darkening into pure malice.
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