The Price of Love

◆ 16 ◆

Beck Evers stepped under the police tape surrounding his brother's mansion and entered through the open front doors, passing reporters and photographers trying to get a peek inside as burly security guards attempted to restrain the masses. He walked slowly down the hall to the ballroom, popping a lemon drop into his mouth.

The ballroom was full with people, but it wasn't the glamorous highrollers the room was meant to be for. Some exclusive news reporters had been allowed inside, talking on phones or writing things down or taking pictures. A unit of tactical soldiers had been deployed since the event was being treated as a terror threat. Detectives and officers of the state were standing around the room, some taking pictures and others collecting what little evidence they could. 

The scene was complete bedlam. Although the chandelier glass had been swept up, tables were still overturned and blood from the tranquilizers that had hit Melanie, Frank, and Daphne still covered the marble steps leading to the podium. The stage was still torn apart, with large splinters of wood cracking out from where the bomb had gone off. It wasn't made any better by the people now swarming the scene of the crime, attempting to make sense of the mass hysteria.

After receiving word of the news, Beck had chartered a private jet to New York to console Frank and his wife. Although he was not particularly close to Daphne, preferring to stay in his numerous condos away from the drama of New York, Beck was concerned about his niece. Or rather, the outcome of Evers Corporation. As Daphne was the only legal inheritance, the company that had made the Evers brothers into a success was perhaps the most important thing in Beck's life, which in turn made Daphne Evers an utmost point of concern. Any harm to Daphne would only serve to be a harm to the company. And now, with no one having the darndest clue about Daphne's whereabouts, Beck was very, very worried.

He took a moment to survey the ballroom crowd before making his way deeper into the manor. Other than the ballroom, the rest of the house was closed off to the public. Men in dark suits and weapons lined every corner of every room and every hallway, on high alert for any prying eyes or too curious reporters. Beck nodded in polite acknowledgement as he passed them, following the path that would take him to Frank's study where a team of private investigators were carefully scrutinizing every second of a ransom video that had been left on the garden steps an hour before.

Beck stopped in front of the double oak doors, listening to the frantic discussion going inside. Soft sobs could be heard above the rumble of voices, and Beck figured it must have been Melanie. He recognized Frank's voice speaking for a second, and then a sudden dull thud that was probably his brother slamming his hands down on the table, a power move that both siblings had perfected to get attention. 

Beck felt a soft vibration against his thigh. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen, and then clicked on the message. 

Beck smiled. And then, fixing his face into the whole 'distressed uncle' look, he opened the door and stepped inside.