Chapter 7 - The Shadows at the Lake
Night had fallen over the lakehouse estate by the time Marisol’s SUV pulled into the secluded gravel driveway. The massive timber-and-stone house loomed against the dark water of the lake, its grand windows casting warm squares of light onto the snow-covered lawn.
Marisol killed her headlights fifty yards from the main gate, stepping out into the freezing winter air. She slipped quietly across the snow, her boots making no sound as she approached the side entrance near the private study.
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass patio doors, she could see inside the warm, wood-paneled room.
Her mother and father were sitting on the leather sofa, arguing furiously. Her mother was waving a stack of overdue utility notices in the air, her face red with anger, while her father paced back and forth, holding a glass of scotch in his trembling hand.
"She canceled everything!" her mother shouted, her voice faintly audible through the double-paned glass. "The mortgage payment bounced this morning! The bank called Marcus’s representatives!"
"Shut up, Helen!" her father barked, swigging his drink. "Marcus said he would handle her! Just stay calm!"
Marisol watched them from the dark terrace, her stomach turning. They knew. They had known all along that Marcus was alive, and they were actively working with him to exploit her.
Suddenly, a shadow moved in the corner of the study.
A tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a tailored black coat stepped out from the private hallway, his face illuminated by the amber glow of the fireplace.
It was Marcus Vance. Older, his dark hair tinged with silver, but unmistakably the uncle who was supposed to have been buried at sea ten years ago. In his gloved right hand, he held a sleek black leather briefcase and a satellite phone.
"You two are hopeless," Marcus said, his deep voice carrying clearly through the terrace glass. "I told you to keep the girl compliant until her birthday. Instead, you insulted her over lunch and drove her away."
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"She was getting arrogant, Marcus!" her mother protested, standing up. "She was questioning the accounts!"
"And now she’s at her attorney's office," Marcus snapped cold-bloodedly. "Which means the game is over. We execute Protocol B tonight."
