As his knees gave out, my right hand caught the barrel of his weapon, twisted the firearm backward against his thumb until the joint popped out of its socket, and drove the heavy steel slide across the bridge of his nose.
Vance collapsed onto the polished herringbone floor like an empty coat, unconscious before his head struck the baseboard.
A small silver fork clattered against Evelyn’s china plate.
Garrett sprang to his feet, knocking his crystal glass onto the table, scotch pooling across the linen cloth.“What are you doing?!
Mother, call the guards!
Call—”
“The guards outside are currently asleep in their security hut, Garrett,” I said, resting the confiscated Glock onto the mahogany table.“And their radio frequencies are running on a dead loop.”
Evelyn didn’t run.Her kind never runs initially—they rely on forty years of unearned authority like an invisible shield.
She stood up, her chin held high, eyes glittering with disdain.
