Chapter 8 - The Desperate Gamble
It was a cold, rainy Tuesday morning when my phone rang while I was sitting at my kitchen table reviewing my college accounting homework.
I glanced at the screen. Unknown Caller.
Frowning, I swiped to answer. "Hello?"
"Clara?" a harsh, scratchy voice rasped through the speaker. It wasn't Luke. It sounded older, coarser, and dripping with malicious venom.
"Who is this?" I demanded, gripping my pen tightly.
"Don't play dumb with me, bitch," the voice sneered. "You think you won, don't you? You think you and your fancy lawyer boyfriend put my boy away and walked off into the sunset?"
My blood ran cold. It was Arthur Vance—Luke’s uncle, a notoriously ruthless real-estate tycoon in Western Massachusetts who had spent thirty years operating in the gray areas of the law, far scarier and more well-connected than Luke could ever hope to be.
"Arthur," I said, my voice dropping into a steady, defensive register. "If you're calling on behalf of Luke, save your breath. He's going away for a very long time."
"Luke is an idiot who couldn't run a lemonade stand," Arthur spat back. "But you... you humiliated the Vance name. And nobody humiliates my family and breathes fresh air for long."
"Are you threatening me?" I challenged, standing up from the kitchen table, my adrenaline spiking.
"I'm not threatening you, Clara. I'm offering you a choice," Arthur’s voice turned silky and venomous. "Drop the federal charges against Luke. Sign over the remainder of your asset-recovery settlement to my legal fund. And we walk away. If you don't... well, let's just say accidents happen to single mothers driving home from grocery stores on dark suburban roads. And little boys without fathers tend to be very, very lonely."
My breath caught in my throat. A cold wave of sheer, unadulterated terror washed over me, freezing my blood. He was threatening Toby. He was threatening my four-year-old son.
"If you or anyone you hire comes anywhere near my son," I whispered, my voice trembling with murderous rage, "Julian Vance won't just put you in prison. He will feed you to the wolves."
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"We'll see about that, little girl," Arthur laughed darkly, and the line went dead with a sharp click.
My hands shook so violently I dropped my phone onto the kitchen counter. Without wasting a single second, I grabbed my keys, scooped up my purse, and dialed Julian’s direct mobile number while sprinting out to my car.
