Chapter 11 - The Creak on the Stairs
CREAK.
The sound was tiny, almost entirely drowned out by the patter of rain against the boathouse roof, but Ethan’s head snapped toward the wooden staircase leading up to the cliff path.
He reached behind the desk, pulled a dark metal flashlight from a drawer, and clicked it off, plunging the office into pitch darkness.
“Stay behind me,” Ethan whispered, shoving Emma and Sophia toward the back wall behind the iron safe.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps descended the wooden stairs.
A flash of lightning illuminated the glass windows above, casting a long, sinister shadow across the floor. A man stepped into the boathouse, dressed in a damp charcoal tailored coat, holding a sleek black silenced pistol in his gloved right hand.
It was Julian.
His handsome face was twisted into a cold, arrogant smirk as he looked around the darkened room.
“I knew you’d come here, Ethan,” Julian said smoothly, his voice echoing off the wooden beams. “You always were so predictable. Running to Father’s little hideout whenever things went wrong.”
Ethan stepped out from behind the desk, his hands raised slightly to show he was unarmed, positioning his body directly between Julian’s gun and the corner where Emma and Sophia were hidden.
“Julian,” Ethan said calmly, keeping his tone steady. “The funeral is over. Clara is waiting for you at the estate.”
Julian chuckled softly, stepping off the bottom stair onto the wooden floorboards. “Clara is an old fool who thinks she’s running this show. She actually believed I poisoned Sophia just to help her get the board seats.”
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“Why did you do it, Julian?” Ethan asked, buying time as his eyes scanned the desk for anything he could use as a weapon.
“Because Sophia found the Vermont records!” Julian spat, his polite demeanor cracking to reveal pure malice. “She was twenty-four hours away from handing those papers over to the board! If the board found out I’m not a Sterling, I lose everything! The money, the status, the name!”
