The Heir on His Knees

Chapter 2 The Toxic Setup

Chloe gasped and pitched sideways. Her ankle rolled in a performance that might have fooled someone across the room.

Her hand missed the pedestal's edge. It struck the sculpture instead.

The bronze tipped. The open jar of thick amber liquid flew toward Leo.

“Leo!”

I lunged, turned my back to the splash, and shoved him clear. The sculpture hit the marble with a clang that stopped every conversation in the gallery.

Then the chemical reached my right hand.

Heat tore across my skin. I dropped to one knee but kept hold of Leo with my left hand.

The first splash landed across my knuckles. A second streak ran toward my wrist before I wiped it against the marble. The smell rose at once, bitter and chemical, and the skin around my ring finger began to whiten.

“Look at me. Did it touch you?” I checked his face, neck, hands, and coat. “Leo, tell me.”

He shook so hard his teeth clicked. “No, Mommy. You pushed me.”

No wet spots. No burns. He was safe.

My knees nearly gave out. I pulled him against my uninjured side long enough to feel him breathe, then checked the floor around his shoes. The amber liquid had stopped less than a foot from his heel.

“My baby!”

Chloe clutched her flat stomach and folded against Julian. “Oh, God, my baby! That little monster pushed it. He tried to kill my baby!”

Julian caught her. He never glanced at Leo or at the blisters rising on my hand.

“Chloe, are you hurt?” He raised his head. “Security! Get over here now!”

The room had gone quiet. Guests stared at the broken display and the amber streak across the floor.

No one moved to help me rinse the burn. Several people had their phones out, although a woman near the front lowered hers when I looked at her. Julian saw the witnesses and drew Chloe closer, committing himself to her version before anyone could ask a question.

Julian pointed at us. “Look what you've done. You brought your brat here to cause trouble, and now he's attacked my pregnant wife.”

I got Leo onto his feet and tucked him behind me again. My burned hand throbbed against my chest.

“He didn't touch it.”

“I saw him!” Chloe sobbed. “He ran straight at it. He's vicious.”

The air smelled of bitter almonds. Years in restoration rooms took over before panic could.

“You saw him push it?” I nodded toward the floor. “Then explain that splash pattern. The liquid left the jar under lateral force. The primary splatter starts on your side of the pedestal.”

Chloe stopped crying for half a second.

I lifted my blistering hand. “This is high-concentration synthetic varnish remover. The fumes can damage the lungs. Skin contact causes severe chemical burns. You aimed it at a four-year-old.”

The restorer assigned to the bronze had left absorbent cloths beneath the worktable. One of them was stained by the same amber liquid, and the trail ran cleanly from Chloe's side of the pedestal. She followed my gaze and moved her shoe over the nearest edge of it.

My eyes moved to Julian. “She could have disfigured or killed my son in a room full of witnesses. You're helping her blame him.”

Color left his face. The floor, the jar, and my hand were all in plain sight. Admitting any of it would cost him the audience he had spent years trying to impress.

For one second, he looked at Chloe. She gripped his sleeve and shook her head. His jaw set. Facts had never mattered to Julian once an apology threatened his pride.

“She's insane,” he said.

Two uniformed guards hurried through the crowd. Julian pointed at me with a shaking hand.

“Don't listen to her. Grab them both. They aren't leaving this room.”