All Chapters of The Zero-Dollar Heir: The Discarded Son-In-Law’s Revenge: Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
12 chapters
Chapter 11: The Echo of the Gavel
The scent of isopropyl alcohol and fresh copper hung heavy in the air of the corridor, a nauseating combination that clung to the back of my throat. I stood leaning heavily against the pristine white wall of the intensive care unit, my breaths shallow, ragged, and whistling slightly through my fractured ribs. Each micro-movement of my chest felt as though someone were driving a rusted nail into my lung, but I refused to slide back down to the floor.Two state police officers, their expressions hardened by years of dealing with the city’s worst, had their hands locked under Bryan Lockhart’s armpits. They weren't being gentle. His pristine leather shoes dragged uselessly along the polished tile, leaving a faint, dark smear where his frantic heels tried to find traction."Ethan! You can't do this to me!" Bryan shrieked, his voice cracking into a high, pathetic register that bounced off the glass panes of the surrounding patient rooms. A thick string of saliva and blood trailed from his s
Chapter 12: The Threshold of Blood
The private elevator ride down to the sub-basement holding cells was a descent into a suffocating, soundproof dark. I leaned heavily against the cold, mirror-polished steel wall of the cabin, the heavy, vibrating thrum of the machinery echoing the jagged, unsteady pounding of my heart. My left hand was pressed flat against my ribs, feeling the terrifying, loose shifting of bone beneath my soaked uniform shirt with every shallow breath. The blood in my mouth had dried into a thick, metallic crust, locking my jaw in a rigid line.I looked into the reflection on the elevator door. My hair was plastered to my forehead, my eyes bloodshot and rimmed with a deep, bruised purple from sheer exhaustion and trauma. But beneath the raw, broken flesh of a low-level driver, the predator had completely broken through."Young Master," Lawrence whispered from the corner of the lift, his hands trembling as he clutched a fresh, dark wool coat for me. He looked at the trail of crimson drops falling from