Page 63 of Legacy of Succession

“I’m afraid Laird McGuire couldn’t uphold his end of whatever bargain you made with him. He came down with an unfortunate case of a hole in the head. Couldn’t happen to a nicer man, if you ask me,” Victoria continues cockily.

“Did my other son finally grow a set of balls?” My father steps forward, but William cocks the gun.

“I wouldn’t if I were you, Father.” The last word is spat with venom. “I don’t like the future you have planned for Nicholas and Victoria very much, and I’ve found that years of playing shooting games on consoles has left me with an excellent aim.”

“You would kill your own father?” The Duke raises a skeptical eyebrow, and I use his, momentarily, distracted gaze to shuffle to the side of the room. I need to regain my senses if I’m to help my brother and Victoria. Neither one is strong enough to survive the evil that could take place here.

“I’ve had enough of your games and self-righteous nature. You’ve no right to treat people the way you have. No bit of paper can decide my fate, only I can do that. The society ends here and now.” Victoria meets my father halfway across the room. William remains at the door with his gun aimed at the un-moving Bishop and Elizabeth.

“So confident, yet I see the shaking in your hands. Tell me, how far did the Laird get before William saved you?”

Victoria smirks when she responds, "Not far enough to break me.”

“Damn,” the Duke replies unhappily.

“Why can’t you just accept he doesn’t want you and fuck off to hell.” Elizabeth steps forward this time and wraps her arm round my father’s.

“Are you talking about the Duke or the Earl, Elizabeth, because I’m pretty sure I would pass on the former.”

“The Earl got me pregnant, you stupid bitch. He’s a cheater and a liar.”

“No.” Victoria maintains her poise and calm so gracefully that, despite the situation, I can feel myself getting hard in my pants. “The Duke got you pregnant when you opened your legs for him for a title. I’m guessing that, as Nicholas is most definitely the better looking of the two, you slipped into a little fantasy world at some point and imagined it was the Earl. I know he wouldn’t touch you with his dick even if it was on fire and needed a wet place to extinguish it.” Victoria raises an eyebrow at the end of her retort, and I let out a little chuckle.

“Are you going to let her speak to me like that? Kill her,” Elizabeth demands of my father.

“She’s the one with the gun. I’m afraid there isn’t much that I can do.” My father edges closer to Victoria. I’m wary of the action.

“But you’ve got your own gun in your suit jacket,” Elizabeth replies.

Everything happens in slow motion. My father growls and pulls his own weapon out. He fires at the same time as Victoria does. Thankfully, his shot skims past and into the wall behind. I turn to follow the path of Victoria’s bullet just as I watch it slice through Elizabeth’s chest. My father is behind her — he’d pulled her in front of him. Elizabeth gurgles blood from her mouth as the life drains from her. My father lets her slip to the floor. Victoria stands shocked at what she’s done, and it’s just the advantage my father needs. He grabs her and pulls the gun from her trembling hands and drops it to the floor. I’m on my feet as quickly as my blood loss allows me. William’s rushing forward at the same time, but we’re too late. My father has Victoria around the throat, and a gun pointed at her head. We both skid to a halt.

“My daughter.” The Bishop falls to the floor and begins last rites.

“I’ve failed you, Father,” Elizabeth speaks through struggled breaths

“No!” her father cries.

“I only wanted to make them see you’re a good man. It’s all you’ve ever taught me.”

“I know, my child, I know.”

Elizabeth tries to speak again, but only her final breath of life comes. She slumps lifelessly into her father’s arms.

“You promised me that she wouldn’t be hurt.” Hubert Sandford’s mask of piety slips. “I’ll make you suffer for this.”

Without even batting an eyelid, my father removes the gun from Victoria's head and shoots the grieving man between the eyes.

Victoria screams as he slumps forward in a heap on top of his daughter.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer man,” my father jests.

“How about you point the gun at yourself?” I counter and take a step closer.

“Uh, uh. No. You stay just where you are. I’m not a fool. Here’s what happens. If you want Victoria alive, then I suggest you both move out of my way. I’m going to take her with me as collateral for a while. It seems that I need to think of another plan.”

“Not going to happen. You’re going to put the gun down. We still have a weapon trained on you.”

“Yes, by the most stupid man in London.”

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