Chapter 7 - THE FIRST STITCHSerafina made a sound Marin had never heard from her before.
Not anger.
Not arrogance.
A sister’s terror.
“Julian.”
The boy lifted his head.
He was seventeen.
Blood ran from his nose, but his eyes were clear.
“Don’t give them anything,” he said.
August Bowmont looked at his son with irritation rather than concern.
“Be quiet.”
Serafina stared at her father.
“You gave him to them.”
August did not deny it.
“The city requires sacrifice.”
“Your son?”
“My heir is the family.”
“You mean yourself.”
Lucien smiled.
“Children become sentimental when they are denied discipline.”
Cassian’s weapon remained pointed at his father.
“Let Julian go.”
“And then?” Lucien asked. “Will we discuss your disobedience?”
“You tried to kill me.”
“I tested you.”
“With poisoned stitches?”
“With a choice.”
Marin stepped forward.
Cassian caught her arm.
Lucien’s eyes brightened.
“There she is. Evelyn used to move exactly like that when she was angry.”
“You knew my mother.”
“Very well.”
“You killed her.”
“I ordered Teddy to retrieve the ledger.”
Teddy showed no emotion.
“Your mother chose to run.”
“You forced her off the road.”
“Details.”
Cassian fired.
The bullet struck the stone beside Lucien’s head.
Everyone raised weapons.
Julian cried out as Teddy pressed the syringe closer.
Marin forced herself not to look away from Lucien.
“You think Cassian is still fourteen.”
“He is my son.”
“He is the scar you made.”
Lucien’s face hardened.
Marin removed the sealed bloody needle from her bag.
“I found this inside the false stitches.”
Teddy’s gaze flickered.
“You wanted him to bleed at the altar,” she continued. “But that wasn’t the entire plan.”
Cassian looked at her.
Marin had reached the answer on the boat.
The old blood beneath Cassian’s wedding ring.
The first stitch.
The medical records beneath the cathedral.
“You used his blood,” she said.
Lucien smiled faintly.
“For what?” Cassian asked.
Marin kept her eyes on his father.
“The wedding contract required blood verification.”
Serafina looked confused.
Marin explained.
“The Marquette and Bowmont agreement was more than a marriage certificate. It transferred voting control of companies, docks, trusts, and political funds.”
Cassian understood.
“My blood sealed the document.”
“Yes.”
Lucien applauded softly.
“Evelyn’s daughter is almost as clever as she was.”
“The old blood under Cassian’s ring was planted,” Marin said.
“Taken when?”
Lucien looked at Teddy.
Teddy answered.
“The first shooting.”
Cassian went still.
They had preserved his blood for nearly two decades.
The blood of a fourteen-year-old boy.
Waiting for the day it could authenticate a transfer signed in his name.
“The wedding never needed to happen,” Marin said. “You only needed everyone gathered while Cassian appeared to collapse.”
“And while both families killed each other,” Marco added.
Lucien smiled.
“Efficient.”
Cassian’s voice became quiet.
“You built my life toward my own execution.”
“I built you to inherit.”
“No.”
Cassian stepped forward.
“You built me to be blamed.”
The courtyard lights went out.
Marco had reached the control panel.
Darkness swallowed the fort.
Gunfire erupted.
Marin dropped behind a stone barrier.
Serafina ran toward Julian.
Cassian fired toward Lucien’s last position.
Teddy dragged Julian backward.
Marin heard the boy choking.
The syringe.
She ran toward the sound.
Someone struck her from the side.
She hit the ground.
Teddy stood above her.
The syringe was no longer near Julian.
It was aimed at her.
“Your mother was less troublesome.”
Marin kicked his knee.
He fell.
The syringe skidded across the stone.
She reached for it.
Teddy grabbed her hair.
Then Cassian slammed into him.
The two men crashed against the wall.
Teddy was older, but desperation made him vicious.
He drove a knife beneath Cassian’s ribs.
Marin screamed.
Cassian staggered.
Teddy raised the blade again.
Marin seized the fallen syringe and drove it into Teddy’s thigh.
His face changed.
“What did you—”
“The same anticoagulant you used on Cassian.”
Teddy looked down at the wound.
Small.
Almost nothing.
But blood already darkened his trousers.
He fled into the tunnel.
Cassian tried to follow.
Marin caught him.
“No.”
“Teddy—”
“You’re stabbed.”
“So is he.”
“His wound will not clot.”
She pressed both hands against Cassian’s side.
Across the courtyard, Marco’s men secured August Bowmont.
Serafina freed Julian.
Lucien had vanished.
Again.
Cassian looked toward the dark passage.
“My father.”
“Marco will find him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And you will die if I don’t close this wound.”
His eyes met hers.
“First stitch,” he whispered.
Marin’s hands shook.
“What?”
“You asked who knew about the first stitch.”
Blood spread beneath her fingers.
Cassian’s face was turning pale.
“My mother did,” he said. “Teddy did. Lucien did.”
“Stop talking.”
“And you.”
She looked at him.
“You knew what it meant before any of us.”
“No.”
“You knew it was meant to save me.”
Her throat closed.
“Cassian.”
He touched her face with a bloody hand.
“Do it again.”
Then his knees gave out.
Marin lowered him to the stone.
Around them, the war continued.
She cut open his shirt.
The knife had entered below the ribs.
Possibly liver.
Possibly lung.
She had minutes.
Maybe less.
Marin threaded a curved needle.
Her grandmother’s voice came back through the years.
Hands steady.
Edges clean.
Do not sew fear into the wound.
Marin placed the first stitch.
Then the second.
Cassian opened his eyes once.
“Don’t let them ruin the marble,” he whispered.
She laughed and cried at the same time.
“Shut up.”
By the time the rescue boat arrived, Cassian was unconscious.
But alive.
Lucien Marquette was missing.
Teddy’s blood trail ended at the water.
May you like
And on the fort’s eastern wall, someone had written a final message in fresh blood.
THE SON STILL OWES THE FATHER.
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