Chapter 6 - The Weight of the Wood
"Dad, listen to me, he's lying!" Mark desperately shouted, crawling across the floor, wiping the blood from his mouth. "The kid is sick in the head! The doctors told us to isolate him when he acts out! We were just following medical advice!"
"Shut your mouth," Richard said without raising his voice, yet the sheer, cinematic menace in his tone made Mark instantly freeze.
Richard looked down at the handmade wooden airplane on the rug. He reached out and picked it up.
It was a crude toy, carved from heavy pine, the edges sanded down smoothly so a child wouldn't get splinters. The propeller was attached with a simple metal pin. But as Richard held it in his massive, scarred hands, he noticed something incredibly strange.
The weight of the wood was uneven.
He gently shook the toy. A very faint, dull rattle echoed from inside the thick fuselage.
Richard narrowed his intense gray eyes. He looked at the frayed ribbon wrapped tightly around the center of the plane. It wasn't just decorative. It was specifically tied to hold a concealed seam together.
Claudia, still cowering by the overturned table, realized what Richard was looking at. The remaining color completely drained from her face.
"No, don't open that! It's dirty!" Claudia shrieked, scrambling to her feet in a blind, hysterical panic, lunging toward the fireplace.
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Before she could even take three steps, two of Richard's massive bodyguards stepped into her path, grabbing her arms and violently slamming her back down to the floor.
👉 Claudia’s absolute terror confirmed Richard’s suspicions, and the mafia boss was about to pull the pin on a grenade.
