Chapter 8 - The Confrontation
Victoria staggered back, shocked by Sarah’s sudden, violent entry through the second-story window. But her shock instantly hardened into pure, murderous rage.
"You again?!" Victoria shrieked, raising the heavy brass weapon once more. "You just don't know when to die, do you, maid?!"
Victoria lunged forward, swinging the brass candle holder straight at Sarah’s head!
Sarah ducked, holding Leo tight against her left shoulder, and drove her right elbow hard into Victoria’s ribs!
OOF!
Victoria let out a sharp gasp, stumbling backward against the changing table, knocking over boxes of baby wipes and lotions.
The nursery door burst wide open!
Ethan charged into the room, his face wild, his gun—a legal sidearm he kept in his office safe—raised in his hand!
"VICTORIA! DROP IT!" Ethan bellowed!
Victoria froze. She looked at Ethan, then looked at Sarah holding Leo, bleeding from her hands, her uniform soaked in mud and rain.
In a fraction of a second, Victoria tried to play her final card. She dropped the brass candle holder, threw her hands into the air, and began to weep hysterically.
"Ethan! Thank God!" Victoria cried out, taking a step toward him. "She broke through the window! She has a knife! She’s trying to kidnap Leo! Shoot her, Ethan! Shoot her!"
Ethan didn't move the barrel of his gun. He looked at Victoria’s cold, calculating eyes, then down at the heavy brass weapon on the floor, and finally at Sarah, who was holding his son, whispering gentle lullabies into the terrified baby's ear despite her own bleeding hands.
"I called the police five minutes ago, Victoria," Ethan said, his voice flat, terrifyingly quiet, and filled with pure disgust. "My investigator told me about Julian. About the SEC. About the offshore accounts."
Victoria’s fake sobs stopped instantly.
Her face transformed from helpless victim into an icy, hideous mask. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, stepping back against the wall.
"You idiot," Victoria spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You think you're smart, Ethan? Your company is already dead. My father owns half your board members. You were supposed to be my ticket back to Manhattan!"
"You touch my son again," Ethan said, his finger tightening on the trigger, "and you won't make it to Manhattan."
Screeching tires and flashing red-and-blue lights suddenly lit up the long driveway outside the estate.
Three police cruisers pulled up to the front portico, their sirens wailing through the rain. Armed officers poured through the front doors of the estate, their boots thundering up the grand staircase.
Within two minutes, two officers handcuffed Victoria Vance, dragging her down the hallway as she screamed curses and threats into the dark.
Ethan lowered his gun, setting it on the dresser. He walked slowly over to Sarah.
He looked at her bleeding hands, her muddy uniform, the severe burn on her arm, and the gentle, fierce way she cradled six-month-old Leo, who had finally stopped crying, his tiny hand clutching Sarah’s gray collar.
Ethan fell to his knees in front of her.
"Sarah..." Ethan stammered, tears filling his eyes as he looked up at the maid he had almost thrown away. "I... I don't know how to ask for your forgiveness."
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Sarah looked down at the powerful executive kneeling on the nursery floorboards, then down at baby Leo, who let out a soft, peaceful coo.
"You don't need to ask me for anything, Mr. Ethan," Sarah said softly, wiping a muddy drop of rain from Leo's brow. "Just promise me you'll listen to the people who love your son."
