Chapter 8 - Confrontation in the Storm
The silence in the library was terrifying.
Julian stood frozen beside the fireplace, the color draining from his slick, handsome face until he looked like a corpse. His dark eyes darted frantically from Nathaniel’s face to the shattered glass on the floor, then toward the locked library doors.
“What... what did you just say?” Julian rasped, his voice cracking.
Nathaniel set his untouched glass down on the silver tray with a quiet, heavy thud.
“Thallium sulfate,” Nathaniel repeated, stepping around the leather chair, his tall frame looming over his younger half-brother. “The same tasteless, odorless neurotoxin you bought from a lab in Frankfurt three years ago. The same toxin you paid Dr. Harrison fifty thousand dollars a month to administer to my wife.”
“You’re insane!” Julian screamed, stumbling backward until his spine hit the edge of the mahogany desk. “You’ve finally lost your mind, Nathaniel! The grief has broken you! I’m calling the paramedics—!”
Julian reached frantically for the desk phone.
Nathaniel moved like a striking viper. He grabbed Julian by his silk necktie, yanked him across the desk, and slammed him hard onto the leather surface, pinning his throat beneath his forearm.
“EVELYN LEFT A VIDEO, YOU BASTARD!” Nathaniel roared, his voice echoing off the two-story bookshelves like thunder. “She hid the Toronto lab results! She hid the ledger! She recorded every night you brought her that damn tea!”
Julian gasped for air, his face turning purple as Nathaniel’s arm pressed into his windpipe. Panic—pure, raw, pathetic terror—finally flooded Julian’s eyes.
“She... she was supposed to die before she figured it out...” Julian choked out, his hands clawing uselessly at Nathaniel’s iron grip. “She... she was going to convince you to put the trust in her name... I had to do it, Nat! Father left you everything! EVERYTHING!”
“And you killed her for money,” Nathaniel whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying, absolute fury. He pulled his steel pocketknife from his belt, flicking the four-inch blade open with a loud CLICK, holding the sharp tip one millimeter from Julian’s left eye. “Give me one reason why I shouldn't cut your throat right here on this rug.”
“Nathaniel, NO!” I yelled, stepping out from behind the gallery velvet curtains, rushing down the spiral iron staircase into the library.
Nathaniel didn't look up, his eyes locked onto his brother’s terrified face. “Stay back, Clara! He killed her! He poisoned my wife in her own bed!”
“If you kill him, he wins!” I cried out, grabbing Nathaniel’s broad, muscular shoulder, pulling with all my strength. “If you kill him, you go to prison! Eli loses his father! Sophia loses you! Look at me, Nathaniel!”
Nathaniel stiffened.
Slowly, painfully, he turned his head, his crimson-shot eyes looking into mine.
I saw the deep, bleeding agony in his soul—a man who had spent two years believing he was responsible for his wife’s loss, now standing over her killer.
“Don't let him take Eli’s father too,” I pleaded softly, tears streaming down my cheeks. “Please, Nathaniel. Let the law tear him apart.”
Nathaniel stared at me for three agonizing seconds. The fierce, murderous rage in his chest slowly receded, replaced by a cold, unshakeable dignity.
He slowly pulled the knife back, folding the blade shut.
He pulled Julian off the desk by his collar and threw him onto the floor at the feet of four federal agents and police officers who swarmed into the library, their guns raised.
“Julian Reed,” the lead FBI agent barked, pulling heavy steel handcuffs from his belt. “You are under arrest for the first-degree murder of Evelyn Reed, attempted murder of Nathaniel Reed, and conspiracy to commit corporate fraud.”
As the steel cuffs clicked around Julian’s wrists, he looked up at Nathaniel, then at me, screaming profanities as he was dragged out into the stormy night.
Nathaniel stood alone near the fireplace, his chest heaving, his hands shaking.
May you like
I walked over to him softly. Without saying a word, I reached out and wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head against his broad chest.
Nathaniel froze for a second, then collapsed into my embrace, burying his face in my hair, his arms wrapping tightly around me as he wept silently for the first time in two long years.
