All Chapters of THE LAST DAY OF MERCY: Chapter 1
- Chapter 8
8 chapters
CH 1
The encrypted phone vibrated three times before Lucas Reed silenced it.President Volkov could wait. So could the sixteen governors camped outside his headquarters. So could the military generals, the senators, the heads of state—all of them begging for an audience with a man the world knew only as a shadow.Tonight, Lucas had more important business: surviving his anniversary.He stood at the servant's entrance of Ashford Mansion, delivery bag over his shoulder, velvet box burning in his pocket. Six years of this. Six years of being invisible while commanding an empire that could buy this entire city before breakfast. Six years of keeping a promise to a dead man who'd once saved his life.Six more days. Then the world would remember who Lucas Reed really was."Absolutely not!" Helen, the head maid, blocked the door with her bulk. Behind her, the charity gala blazed with crystal and champagne—two hundred of the city's elite celebrating their wealth while Lucas played delivery boy."I
CH 2
The photograph was water-damaged and creased, but Richard Ashford's smile still cut through the years like a blade.Lucas sat on the edge of his cot, holding the picture in hands that had stopped shaking somewhere around year two. Richard in his hospital bed, one arm around a sobbing Victoria, the other gripping Lucas's shoulder like a lifeline. Three days before the cancer finally won."Promise me," the old man had whispered. "Six years. Protect her. She doesn't know what's coming."Lucas had promised. Richard died believing his daughter would be safe.He'd been wrong about a lot of things.The window scraped open.Lucas didn't turn. "You're getting sloppy, Dustin. I heard you at the fence.""Good." Dustin Steele dropped through the window with predator grace, his five-thousand-dollar suit somehow not wrinkling. "Maybe it'll remind you that you're not actually a servant.""Six more days.""Six more—" Dustin's voice cracked. He paced the tiny room like a caged wolf, all coiled violenc
CH 3
The soapy water was cold, but not as cold as the look in Lucas Reed's eyes when he calculated exactly how much it would cost to destroy Vivian Ashford.Approximately $47 million. Maybe less if he was efficient."You missed a spot," Vivian said, pointing with one manicured finger. Her friends—four women in clothes that cost more than most people's cars—giggled behind their mimosas like this was theater.It was. Just not the show they thought they were watching.Lucas scrubbed the marble floor on his hands and knees, playing the broken servant while his encrypted phone vibrated against his ribs. Probably Dustin reporting that another senator had arrived at headquarters begging for an audience. Probably another crisis that could reshape global politics.Could wait. Lucas had a floor to clean."Honestly, Vivian, I don't know how you stand it." Gloria Pemberton—Senator Pemberton's wife—wrinkled her nose. "Having him underfoot like this.""Oh, it's not so bad." Vivian sipped champagne that
CH 4
The gallery was called Monet's, tucked between a coffee shop and a vintage bookstore. Small enough to miss. Easy to overlook.Lucas almost overlooked it. Then he saw the painting in the window—a phoenix rising from flames—and stopped.The food order said "47 Pearl Street, lunch delivery for Miss Laurent." Lucas checked the address twice. Pushed through the door. Stopped breathing.The space wasn't large but it felt infinite. Paintings covered every wall—abstract explosions of color, traditional landscapes that seemed to breathe, portraits with eyes that followed him. Light poured through skylights, making everything glow like the gallery existed in a different world.Lucas hadn't seen beauty in six years. He'd forgotten it existed."Just a moment!" A voice called from the back.Lucas set down the delivery bag, drawn deeper into the gallery like gravity. The phoenix painting from the window dominated the far wall—massive canvas, six feet tall, the bird barely formed, still burning, cau
CH 5
Victoria couldn't stop seeing it—the way Lucas's face had changed in that gallery, that ghost of a smile when the artist spoke to him.She threw her phone across the bedroom. It bounced off the wall and clattered to the floor."What's wrong?" Derek looked up from his laptop, the platinum SR card spinning between his fingers like a nervous habit."Nothing." Everything. That smile. Six years of marriage and Lucas had never smiled at her like that. Like he was human. Like he remembered how.Derek wasn't listening anyway. He'd been staring at that card for an hour, making call after call, his voice getting quieter and his face getting paler with each conversation."Who did you talk to?" Victoria asked."Hmm?""About the card. Who did you call?""Nobody. Doesn't matter." But his hand shook as he set down the card. "Your mother wants to see us. Downstairs. Now."Vivian held court in the dining room, surrounded by papers and her phone and a smile that made Victoria's stomach turn. That smile
CH 6
Dawn broke with blood still crusted on Lucas's face.He pushed open the shed door—Vivian hadn't bothered locking it again after the show—and stepped into air so cold it burned his lungs. Glass fragments still glittered in his skin. His shirt was stiff with dried blood. He looked like something that had crawled out of a grave.Vivian stood on the back porch, coffee in hand, watching him with the detached interest of someone observing an insect."You look terrible," she said. "Good. Now get inside and clean this entire mansion. Top to bottom. The party's tomorrow and I won't have my guests seeing filth."Lucas climbed the porch steps. "I need bandages.""Bandages?" Vivian laughed. "Use toilet paper. That's all you're worth.""Mrs. Ashford—""Did I stutter? Toilet paper. Or better yet, don't bother. Let the cuts get infected. Maybe you'll take the hint and leave before the party."She went inside. Lucas followed, his hands leaving bloody prints on the doorframe that he'd have to clean la
CH 7
The nametag said "THE GOLD DIGGER" in letters big enough to read from across the room.Lucas stood in the servant's bathroom, staring at his reflection. They'd given him a waiter's uniform—cheap polyester that smelled like mothballs—and pinned the nametag over his heart like a scarlet letter. His face was still bruised from yesterday's beating. His ribs still screamed with every breath.Five hundred guests were arriving. The media was setting up cameras. And Lucas Reed was about to be crucified for entertainment.He touched the nametag. Felt the cheap plastic. Six years of humiliation distilled into three mocking words.Tonight, they'd learn the cost of those words."Get OUT here!" Vivian's voice echoed down the hallway. "Guests are arriving and I need you serving drinks!"Lucas left the bathroom. Walked through the kitchen where caterers pretended not to see him. Picked up a tray of champagne glasses. Stepped into the ballroom that had been transformed into a execution chamber dresse
CH 8
"Let. Her. Go."Three words. Subzero temperature. Lucas's voice didn't rise, didn't waver, just dropped to a register that made the air itself feel colder.The crowd erupted. Five hundred people laughing so hard some doubled over, their mockery echoing off the mansion walls like thunder."Oh my God!" Victoria clutched her stomach. "Listen to him! The servant thinks he can even give orders now!""Should we make him bark?" Vivian's voice cut through the laughter. "Like a good little dog? Bark three times, Lucas, and maybe we'll let your girlfriend go!"The chant started instantly. "BARK! BARK! BARK!" Five hundred voices unified in cruelty, phones capturing every second for their millions of online viewers.Sophie was crying, the guards' fingers digging into her arms hard enough to leave marks. Lucas saw the bruises forming, saw her wince with pain, saw genuine terror in her eyes.Derek stepped forward, riding the crowd's energy like a wave. "I'll make you bark, you worthless piece of—"