The roar became a physical assault. It vibrated in the teeth, in the marrow of the bones. The wind whipped into a frenzy, tearing leaves from the trees and sending Richard's scavenged dollar bills spiraling into the sky.
Richard screamed, diving for the money again, crawling on his belly in the dirt.
Five helicopters. Not news choppers. Not police. These were sleek, matte-black machines, military-grade but finished with the gloss of private wealth. On the side of the lead helicopter, a silver "S" caught the sunlight.
Brenda stood frozen on the porch, her mouth hanging open. Her cigarette fell from her lips, burning a hole in the rotting wood deck.
The lead helicopter banked sharply and began to descend into the open field adjacent to the trailer park. The downdraft was immense. It flattened the tall weeds. It shook the Grimes' trailer so hard the windows rattled in their frames.
Regina was screaming inside, but the sound was swallowed by the turbine whine.
The landing gear touched the earth. The door slid open before the rotors had even slowed.
Two men in dark suits jumped out. They moved with the precision of secret service agents. One scanned the perimeter. The other unrolled a strip of gray carpet over the muddy grass.
It was absurd. It was theatrical. It was exactly something Harrison would do.
Then, he stepped out.
Harrison Sterling. He was taller than she remembered in the photos. He wore a charcoal suit that probably cost more than the entire trailer park. His hair was windblown, but he didn't care. He ripped off his sunglasses.
His eyes were frantic. He scanned the scene-the cowering Richard, the screaming Raymond holding his wrist, the stunned Brenda.
Then his eyes locked on Seraphina.
His expression crumbled. The mask of the CEO, the billionaire, the man of steel-it shattered.
He started running. He ignored the carpet. He ran through the mud, his expensive shoes sinking into the grime.
Seraphina stood still. She let him come to her.
He stopped inches from her. He was breathing hard. He reached out, his hands hovering near her face, as if afraid she was a mirage that would dissipate if touched.
"Seraphina," he choked out.
She looked at him. She saw the gold thread of their bloodline connecting them. It was frayed, but strong.
"Hi, Harry," she said softly.
He pulled her into his arms. It was a crushing embrace. He smelled of sandalwood and sterile airplanes. He was shaking.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. "I'm so sorry I took so long. We were told... the intermediaries told us you died in the fire at the orphanage. We stopped looking. If I had known..."
Seraphina rested her head against his chest. She felt the erratic rhythm of his heart. It was a good heart. A chaotic one, but good. The lies had been necessary for the Pact to hold, but now they could be unraveled.
"It's okay," she said. "I'm here now."
Harrison pulled back. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. It was heavy and warm.
He turned to look at the Grimes family. His face changed instantly. The vulnerability vanished, replaced by a cold, reptilian fury.
Richard was trying to stand up, clutching the money. "Sir? Look, we took good care of her..."
Harrison didn't speak. He just looked at Richard. It was a look that promised lawsuits, audits, and total annihilation.
One of the bodyguards stepped forward, placing a hand on his holster.
Harrison turned his back on them. He put his arm around Seraphina's shoulders.
"Let's go home," he said.
They walked toward the helicopter. The wind whipped Seraphina's hair across her face. Before she climbed into the cabin, she looked back.
Regina was at the window again, watching. The envy on her face was ugly, distorting her features.
Seraphina tapped her own wrist, mimicking the bracelet.
Regina looked down at her arm and screamed.
