Chapter 8 - SCARS AND PROMISES
Julian leveled the gun straight at Clara and Sophia.
Time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl. Clara instinctively spun her body, using her own back as a human shield to protect Sophia and Eli from the impending gunfire. She closed her eyes, bracing for the burning impact of a bullet.
BANG!
The gunshot roared through the vaulted ceiling of the ballroom, followed by the screams of panicked socialites diving under banquet tables.
Clara braced for the pain, but it never came.
Instead, a heavy, warm weight collided with her, wrapping her and the children in an impenetrable embrace. When she opened her eyes, Nathaniel was towering over her, his arms locked around her waist.
“Nathaniel!” Clara cried out in terror.
Nathaniel grunted, a sharp hiss escaping his teeth as he collapsed to one knee. On his left shoulder, dark crimson blood was rapidly staining his crisp white dress shirt.
Julian raised the weapon to fire a second shot, but before his finger could pull the trigger, three tactical officers from the New York State Police Swat Team breached the ballroom doors.
“Drop the weapon! Drop it now!”
Julian turned toward the officers in a blind panic. A single non-lethal rubber round struck Julian’s chest, knocking him off the dais. Within seconds, four officers tackled the disgraced billionaire to the marble floor, twisting his arms behind his back and snapping heavy steel handcuffs onto his wrists.
“It’s over, Mr. Reed!” an officer yelled. “Richard Vance has already confessed at headquarters. You’re under arrest for conspiracy, embezzlement, and the first-degree murder of Evelyn Reed.”
The ballroom was in utter chaos, but for Clara, the entire world had narrowed down to the man bleeding on the floor in front of her.
“Nathaniel, look at me! Stay with me!” Clara pleaded, tearing the linen tablecloth from a nearby station and pressing it firmly against the bullet wound in his shoulder.
Eli crawled forward, his tiny hands touching his father’s pale cheek. “Daddy? Daddy up?”
Nathaniel forced his eyes open, looking up at Clara’s tear-streaked face. Despite the agonizing pain, a weak, genuine smile spread across his lips. He reached up with his uninjured right hand, cupping the side of Clara’s neck with gentle tenderness.
“Are the kids safe?” he whispered, his voice raspy.
“They’re safe. You saved us, Nathaniel,” Clara sobbed, pressing her hand over his. “You saved all of us.”
“No,” Nathaniel breathed, his dark eyes gazing deeply into hers with an intensity that took her breath away. “You saved me, Clara. You brought music back into a house that had been dead for two years.”
Paramedics flooded the dais, gently pushing Clara back to administer emergency trauma care. As they loaded Nathaniel onto the stretcher, his fingers refused to let go of Clara’s hand.
“Come with me,” he insisted, looking at the medical team with the stubborn authority of a billionaire who refused to be commanded. “My family rides with me.”
May you like
Clara nodded, holding Sophia with one arm and Eli with the other as they stepped into the flashing red lights of the ambulance into the clearing night.
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