Chapter 19 - The Banishment
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Eleanor stood paralyzed, shivering in the expensive red silk that suddenly felt like a target painted on her back.
"Where am I supposed to go?" she sobbed, looking around wildly. "My purse, my coat, my phone—they're all upstairs!"
"Your belongings have been incinerated," Richard stated blankly. "You have nothing in this house. You have nothing in those offshore accounts. My men drained them an hour ago. You are leaving with exactly what you came with. Nothing."
He nodded to two guards standing near the main entrance. They stepped forward and grabbed Eleanor roughly by the arms.
"No! Please! It's freezing outside!" she shrieked as they dragged her backward across the polished marble floor. She fought, her high heels slipping wildly, but the men were immovable forces.
"If you ever come within a hundred miles of my daughter again," Richard's voice chased her down the grand hallway, cold and absolute, "I will stop being civilized. And you will not survive the night."
The heavy front doors of the mansion were thrown open. The freezing, biting Chicago wind howled into the foyer. The guards threw Eleanor out onto the dark, icy driveway and slammed the massive doors shut, locking the deadbolts with a heavy, final thud.
In the ballroom, Marcus hauled the groaning Julian Vance up from the floor by his collar.
"Take him to the warehouse," Richard ordered without looking at the bleeding man. "I'll deal with him tomorrow."
Julian was dragged out through the kitchen service exit, destined for a dark room where the rules of high society did not apply.
Richard turned back to his guests. The tension in the room was suffocating.
"The bar remains open," Richard said calmly, adjusting his cuffs as if he hadn't just destroyed two lives. "Please, enjoy the rest of the evening."
He didn't stay to accept their stunned condolences or awkward praise. He walked out of the ballroom, leaving the crowd to whisper among themselves, and headed straight for the secure east wing.
May you like
He unlocked the heavy steel doors. Maria was sitting in a chair, watching over Sophie, who was fast asleep in her warm bed, clutching the new stuffed unicorn.
Richard sat on the edge of the mattress, gently stroking his daughter's dark hair. The monster who had starved her was gone. The coldness in his chest finally began to melt, replaced by the fierce, overwhelming warmth of a father's love.
