CHAPTER TWO: THE BURDEN OF PROOF
I looked straight at Patricia and offered a faint, restrained smile that never reached my eyes.
It was not because I found anything amusing, but because every combat veteran recognizes the instant before b@ttle when the air grows unnaturally quiet.
“You really should have thought twice before you thre:atened my daughter,” I said, my voice steady and controlled.
Patricia’s smile narrowed into a thin, bitter line.
“We were simply advising her on how to behave in public,” she lied through her teeth.
I slowly shook my head.
“You held her against her will and you trapped her in a room,” I said, raising my voice only enough for everyone to hear.
Nicholas scoffed before folding his arms tightly across his chest.
“That is a completely insane accusation that you cannot prove,” he said.
I glanced at the bru!ses covering Abigail’s arms before looking back at the men.
“You assaulted her and you will answer for every single mark left on her body,” I declared.
Gregory stepped forward, his jaw clenched and his eyes flashing with fresh irritation.
“You need to be very careful with your next words, Colonel,” he said.
I shifted my complete attention toward him, my stare hard enough to force him back a cautious half-step.
Some men are dangerous because they possess strength, others because they possess wealth, but then there are people like Gregory who believe they can never be touched.
I had spent my military career putting men far tougher and far more intelligent than a spoiled trust-fund brat like him into the ground.
“Touch one more inch of this doorway and you will leave this building in handcuffs,” I said quietly.
For the first time since I had arrived, the arrogant grin disappeared from his face, replaced by genuine confusion.
Patricia attempted to laugh, yet I noticed her hand trembling as it clutched her expensive leather purse.
“Do you have any idea exactly who you are dealing with right now?” she demanded.
“Yes, I know exactly who you are, which is why I am being so polite right now,” I replied.
Abigail’s hand trembled inside mine while she rested her head against my arm.
“Mom, they have videos of me on their phones, they made me say things I did not mean just so they could claim I was mentally unstable,” she whispered.
My blood turned to ice, yet I maintained my composure while reaching into my jacket pocket and pulling out my smartphone.
Patricia narrowed her eyes, obviously suspicious.
“Who are you calling on that phone, Rachel?” she asked.
“I am not calling anyone,” I replied, lifting the screen so they could clearly see the recording application.
I angled the display toward them, revealing the timestamp proving it had been recording from the exact second I stepped into the room.
Every threat, every lie, and every confession they had made was preserved in crystal-clear high definition.
Nicholas’s face lost every trace of color, his jaw falling open in stunned disbelief as he understood what had happened.
Gregory muttered a curse beneath his breath, his eyes flicking nervously toward the doorway as though searching for an escape.
Patricia regained her composure, although her voice now sounded fragile and desperate.
“You recorded us without our permission in a private room,” she snapped
