Chapter 8 - The Ghost of Arthur Monroe
"What is the meaning of this?!" Richard demanded angrily, stepping aggressively toward Gabriel. "Mr. Gabriel, why are you associating with the pathetic daughter of a disgraced bankrupt?"
Richard finally stopped right behind Gabriel, looking directly at Beatrice’s face under the bright, golden ballroom lighting.
The distinguished, wealthy billionaire instantly froze. The crystal champagne glass slipped from his trembling fingers, shattering violently across the polished marble floor. All the color violently drained from his face, leaving him looking like a terrified, pale ghost. He stared at Beatrice's expressive brown eyes as though he had literally seen a dead man walking.
"Arthur Monroe's daughter?" Richard whispered in pure, unadulterated shock, taking an involuntary, terrified step backward.
Gabriel slowly turned his head. His rugged jawline clenched, and his expression hardened into a mask of pure, demonic fury. He glared at the older man with lethal, absolute authority.
"You recognize her, Richard?" Gabriel stated clinically, his voice echoing perfectly across the dead-silent ballroom. "You recognize the beautiful daughter of the man you murdered?"
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Beatrice gasped loudly, her hands flying to her mouth as the massive, decades-old secret was violently ripped into the light.
👉 Gabriel snapped his fingers, entirely prepared to drop a federal guillotine on the arrogant family.
