hapter 17
A cold shiver raced down Balfour’s spine.
“Who the hell are you people?” he demanded.
“Mr. Tobin, does it matter who we are? If you don’t get over here soon, I’ll cut off her hand!”
The line went dead with a sharp click.
Balfour narrowed his eyes, memorizing the string of numbers on the caller ID as he strode towards the warehouse. He dialed Sexton as he walked.
By the time Balfour arrived, his men had already apprehended the culprit.
Balfour pressed his boot down hard on the man’s hand. The guy howled in pain, but Balfour only dug his heel in deeper at the sound.
*So you’re still alive, Gentry Tobin.
Gentry let out a pained, mocking laugh. “Disappointed, Balfour? Sorry to ruin your day by surviving.“}
“You’re ruthless, Balfour. You don’t just go hard on yourself–everyone around you pays the price. Lynne, Cynthia–none of them ever really mattered to you. All you’ve ever cared about is the Tobin estate! I still can’t figure out what was going through old Saul Tobin’s mind, leaving the family fortune to an outsider like you instead of his own blood!“}
At the mention of Lynne’s name, Balfour’s breath hitched.
“What did you say?“?
“You mean you really didn’t know? That group of bastards who assaulted Lynne back then–I sent them. I even called you that night, remember? You could’ve let go of the family business, but you chose not to. That was your decision. What–Lynne took that secret to her grave, didn’t she?”
Balfour’s whole body shook. A ringing in his ears threatened to split his skull. He stumbled back a step, instinctively recoiling.
But the sight of Gentry’s twisted grin tore him to pieces inside, shredding his heart into a thousand fragments.}
Without a word, Balfour grabbed a nearby chair. Before Sexton could even shout a warning, he brought it crashing down on Gentry’s head with all his strength.
*Sexton. He’s yours now.”
“Where are you going?”
For a moment, Balfour’s stony mask slipped, his eyes red and brimming as the first tears finally fell.§
“I saw Lynne. I can’t believe she’s dead. I have to find her-! have to bring her home.“}
Sexton started to stop him, but as he watched Balfour stumble away, it was as if the man had become a lost soul, drifting through the world with nothing left to anchor him. Sexton feared that if he tried to hold him back, Balfour might vanish altogether–maybe even join Lynne, wherever she was.
From the corner, Cynthia stared after Balfour’s retreating figure, tears streaming down her battered face.
Her clothes were torn to shreds, bruises already purpling her cheeks, her legs scraped and bleeding. Since the moment Balfour had arrived, she’d held on to hope–maybe he cared about her, maybe he’d save her–but even as he left, he hadn’t spared her a single glance. The last of her strength snapped. The pain in her hand overwhelmed her at last, and she fainted dead away.”
When Balfour got off the plane, he clutched the dossier Sexton had dug up for him, knuckles white.
The address pointed to a European antiques gallery–he recognized some of the pieces from Lynne’s old studio. If he hadn’t seen them himself, he never would have believed Lynne might still be alive.
He found the place easily, only to be told it was closed to the public for the day.!!
Peering through the glass, Balfour felt an inexplicable rush of emotion.”
ན དན རྒྱུ རྒྱུ ཀརྨ སྣ ཌྷ་ རྒྱུ ༔
“There’s no point waiting here,” a passerby offered. “I heard the gallery’s owner–a woman–is throwing a party with her boyfriend tonight. Maybe try your luck at the Vienna Hotel.”%
“Boyfriend?” Balfour’s face darkened.%
“Yeah, didn’t you say you knew her? How could you not know she has a boyfriend?”
Balfour clenched his fists in silence and walked away.
Just as he stepped outside, a blinding white light exploded in front of him. When he opened his eyes, he couldn’t see a thing.
Stumbling, Balfour felt his way along the wall. He’d come here alone, and now he was completely blind–helpless.
Chapter 17
of that mattered. Even if he
had to
crawl, he’d
make it to her.
He
But none
needed to know–was it really Lynne?
And if it
I was, he’d
tear that
so–called boyfriend to pieces
with his own
hands.
10:55
