Vivian flinched as if I had struck her. “I didn't know he was going to do this, Marc. I swear.”
“Then stop him!” I roared.
Daniel laughed, a dry, hollow sound. “She won't stop me. She’s an accomplice to kidnapping, embezzlement, and fraud. She goes to prison if I go to prison.” He pointed the gun at me. “Toss the drive up here, Marcus. Slide it across the floor. Now.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small black USB drive. I held it up so the light caught it.
“You want it?” I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “Come down here and take it from me.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. He nodded slightly to the fixer at the bottom of the stairs. “Break his legs. Then search him.”
The fixer lunged.
He closed the distance with terrifying speed, swinging the steel baton in a vicious horizontal arc aimed directly at my ribs. I dropped to the floor, feeling the wind of the weapon pass inches over my head.
I rolled across the polished marble, my hand slapping against the cold wood of the croquet mallet Leo had dropped near the entryway hours ago. My fingers locked around the handle.
The fixer pivoted, raising the baton high to bring it down on my skull.
I didn't try to block it. I drove the heavy wooden head of the mallet straight into the side of the fixer’s knee with every ounce of leverage I had left.
The impact was a sickening crunch. The massive man roared in pain, his leg buckling under his weight. He crashed to the floor, but as he fell, his massive hand shot out and gripped the collar of my shirt, dragging me down with him.
We tangled on the marble. He was incredibly strong, wrapping a thick forearm around my throat, cutting off my air. I gagged, thrashing wildly, driving my elbows backward into his ribs, but it was like hitting a brick wall. Black spots began to dance in my vision.
“Shoot him, Daniel!” the fixer grunted, holding me pinned.
I looked up toward the landing.
Daniel had stepped away from the edge. He raised the handgun, leveling the sights directly at the center of my chest.
“No!” Vivian screamed.
She didn't hesitate. The polished, elegant sister I knew vanished, replaced by a desperate woman who had finally reached the absolute limit of her moral decay. She launched herself at Daniel, slamming her shoulder into his back just as his finger pulled the trigger.
The gunshot exploded in the confined space. The bullet shattered the massive crystal chandelier hanging above us. Glass rained down like glittering shrapnel, bouncing off the marble floor and slicing into the fixer’s face.
The fixer flinched, loosening his grip on my throat.
I twisted free, grabbed the heavy wooden mallet from the floor, and drove the handle upward into the center of the fixer’s chest. The air rushed out of his lungs in a wet gasp, and his eyes rolled back as he collapsed heavily onto the tiles, completely unconscious.
I scrambled to my feet, gasping for air, looking up at the landing.
Daniel had lost his grip on Leo during the struggle. My son scrambled away on his hands and knees, terrified.
Daniel backhanded Vivian viciously, sending her crashing into the wall. He raised the gun to aim down at me again, his face twisted in pure rage.
“Drop the weapon, Daniel!” a voice thundered from the hallway.
Harrison stepped into the light of the foyer. He was leaning on the wooden cane, but he stood completely upright, projecting the commanding, terrifying presence that had built his empire. In his left hand, he held a heavy antique shotgun he had pulled from the study display case.
Daniel froze. He looked at the shotgun, then down at me, and finally at his wife, who was sobbing on the floor.
He realized, in that silent, agonizing second, that the game was over.