Chapter 5 - The Trap is Set
At seven-thirty the following morning, the sun broke over the high oak trees surrounding the estate, casting long, golden beams through the sunroom windows.
The change in the boys was nothing short of miraculous.
While they were still physically weak from months of muscle wasting, the grey, sickly pallor had lifted from their skin. Jacob was sitting up in bed, drinking a cup of warm chamomile tea and eating buttered toast—something he hadn't had the appetite for in over a year. Jonah was leaning against my shoulder, giggling softly as I read him a story from a picture book.
Nathan stood near the doorway, dressed in a sharp, pitch-black suit, a crisp white shirt, and a dark silk tie. He looked every bit the powerful, terrifying figure the world knew him to be, yet his eyes held a soft, profound warmth whenever he looked at his sons.
Vince walked into the room quietly, leaning into Nathan's ear. "Dr. Reeves's Mercedes just passed through the main front gate. He's alone."
Nathan nodded slowly. "Is the east wing prepared?"
"Exactly as it was last night," Vince replied with a grim smile. "We even left the air conditioning unit running on low."
Nathan turned to me. "Emily, stay here with the boys. Vince's best men are stationed outside this door. Nobody enters this room without your permission."
"Be careful, Nathan," I said, using his first name naturally for the second time. "A cornered man like Reeves might do something desperate."
Nathan offered a small, dangerous smile that didn't reach his dark eyes. "He should have thought about desperation before he set foot in my home."
He walked out of the room, followed by Vince.
Ten minutes later, Dr. Malcolm Reeves strolled down the grand second-floor hallway of the east wing, his leather medical bag in hand. He wore his usual arrogant expression, humming a light classical tune as he approached the boys' nursery suite.
He opened the double doors, stepping inside.
"Good morning, Nathan," Dr. Reeves said smoothly, seeing Nathan standing by the window with his hands casually tucked into his trousers pockets. "I trust the boys had a quiet night? I brought the new batch of experimental immune-boosters from the lab."
"They had a very interesting night, Malcolm," Nathan said, turning around slowly.
Dr. Reeves paused, his sharp eyes darting toward the two canopy beds.
They were empty.
The sheets were stripped, the pillows gone, and the heavy drapes pulled back to reveal the bare mattress frames.
Dr. Reeves frowned, setting his leather bag down on the coffee table. "Where are the boys? Nathan, I explicitly gave orders that they are not to be moved without my direct supervision! Their immune systems are extremely fragile!"
"Their immune systems are fine, Malcolm," Nathan said, stepping away from the window and moving slowly toward the center of the room. "It was the air in this room that was fragile."
Dr. Reeves froze. A subtle twitch appeared near his left eye. "What are you talking about?"
Nathan reached into his pocket, pulled out the brass ventilation grate Vince had unbolted from the wall, and threw it onto the table beside the doctor's bag.
The heavy brass metal clattered loudly against the glass tabletop.
"Do you know what this is, Malcolm?" Nathan asked, his voice deathly calm. "It's the vent that carried four point two million dollars worth of poison into my sons' lungs."
Dr. Reeves turned pale, taking an involuntary step back toward the exit. "Nathan... this is absurdity! You're letting that delusional nanny get inside your head! I am a board-certified physician!"
"And Mrs. Bennett is a very talkative housekeeper when she's sitting in a cold wine cellar," Nathan added softly.
Dr. Reeves gasped, his hand instantly reaching for the door handle behind him.
May you like
He turned the knob and pulled.
The heavy oak door didn't budge. It had been locked from the outside.
