CHAPTER 54: AN ELDER EXTRACTION

GRANDPA BELMONT

Vanessa’s grip on my arms tightened, her manicured nails digging into my biceps hard enough to leave crescent-shaped indents in my skin. Her wedding dress—an absurdly expensive marshmallow-esque puff of ivory silk and lace—was smudged with dirt.

Nathan loomed behind her, his tuxedo jacket straining across shoulders that had clearly spent too much time in the gym. He was a CEO, not a Mr. Universe contender. His gaze locked onto Raine with the kind of cold calculation usually reserved for serial killers and tax auditors.

Malone, meanwhile, had positioned himself near the exit. His right hand rested near his holster, fingers twitching like he was mentally rehearsing his draw. Nathan told me once that his bodyguard/assistant had once shot a mugger through a subway car window from thirty yards away. If I was in trouble, I’d want Malone to be on the rescue team.

And then there was Nettie.

Nettie sat in her worn armchair, the faded floral upholstery molding around her like a second skin. Her cotton nightgown—pale yellow and slightly frayed at the edges—draped loosely over her thin frame. The house slippers, scuffed at the toes from years of shuffling across hardwood floors, barely made a sound as she crossed one ankle over the other. A single lamp cast a dim, golden glow, painting the room in long shadows, but Nettie didn’t seem to mind the gloom. Her hands rested calmly in her lap, fingers laced together.

Vanessa’s head swiveled between me and Nettie so fast I think I heard her vertebrae pop. "Grandpa, are you okay? What’s going on? Who is this?"

I sighed so hard my dentures rattled. "Vanessa, meet Nettie Drop. My ex-girlfriend."

Nettie wiggled her fingers at my granddaughter and her new husband. Really new. Like today new.

Vanessa studied Nettie like my ex was a specimen under a microscope. "Wait. This is the woman who—"

"—set fire to my car and stole my favorite jacket," I finished.

"Oh, please. The car fire was an accident. An accident

, Danny." She paused. "And that jacket was hideous. Throwing it away was a service to anyone with eyeballs."

"Why did you kidnap my Grandpa?" demanded Vanessa.

Raine, who leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, said, "It wasn’t a kidnapping. It was an elder extraction."

Vanessa pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay. Let’s back up." She jabbed a finger at Raine. "Who are you?"

Raine hesitated, glancing at Nettie. She gave him a nod. If I hadn’t been looking at her, I would’ve missed the gesture. Nettie was as crafty as ever.

"Right. Well." The elder extractor (hah!) straightened. He held out a hand, which I immediately slapped away. "Ouch! I’m Raine Drop."

"You said that with a straight face," said Vanessa.

"Actually it’s more accurate to say I’m Raine Drop Belmont."

I choked on air so violently I nearly coughed up a lung. "Excuse me?"

Nettie sighed. "Daniel, meet your grandson."

The room did a lazy spin around me, the hardwood floor tilting like the deck of a ship in a storm. The antique clock on the mantel ticked obnoxiously loud, each second stretching into an eternity.

"Hold on," I wheezed, gripping the armrest of the nearest chair hard enough to crack the wood. "You’re telling me this kid—" I jabbed a finger at Raine, who had the audacity to look mildly offended. "—is our grandson?"

"Yes."

"Grandpa!" Vanessa stared accusingly at me. "You had a child outside of marriage? You cheated on Grandma?"

"Your grandma went abroad to finish her education. We weren’t together yet. That happened later. Anyway, I met Nettie."

"We had a daughter, Lillian. She wasn’t married when she got pregnant with Raine. She never told us who his father was."

"My mom died in a car accident when I was five," said Raine. "Grandma Nettie raised me."

I felt like someone had reached into my chest and ripped out my heart. I’d had a child with Nettie. A child I never knew existed. A child who was gone.

I sat down hard on the nearest chair, the impact sending a jolt up my spine. The leather creaked under me, protesting my sudden weight.

I stared at my hands. Hands that never held my daughter. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

"What would be the point in telling you?" Nettie sighed. "You were getting married. Mary was your everything. Me popping out of the woodwork with a surprise baby would’ve ruined your lives. Besides, Lillian was my kid. I raised her, loved her, and buried her." Nettie gestured for Raine to come over. She took his hand and held onto it. She looked at me. "I want you to posthumously recognize our daughter as a Belmont. And I want you to recognize Raine as a Belmont heir."

"Vanessa’s the only heir," I said. "She’s my only grandchild." I glanced at Raine. "Well she was."

"Raine’s older than Vanessa," said Nettie.

"So my cousin Raine is the true Belmont heir?" Vanessa groaned. "Mom and Dad are going to have an aneurysm."

"He can’t be an heir without recognition," I said. "And he’s illegitimate."

"What era are we living in?" demanded Nettie. "Blood is thicker than water, Daniel. You can’t deny Raine his heritage."

"I didn’t say I wouldn’t recognize him."

Glass shattered.

A bullet whizzed past my ear close enough that I felt the heat of its passage, embedding itself in the wall with a thunk that vibrated through the room. The framed photo of young Nettie and me on the dock exploded, sending shards of glass and splintered wood skittering across the floor.

Malone moved faster than a man his size had any right to, lunging for Vanessa and Nathan. He shoved them both to the ground. Raine grabbed Nettie and hauled her behind the couch, her slippers flying off and sliding across the polished floor.

I hefted the wrought-iron fireplace poker like the world’s most geriatric knight, my knuckles white around the handle. The metal was cold, unyielding—nothing like the weight of a proper weapon, but it would have to do. "Oh, for fuck’s sake," I muttered.

Armed men in black tactical gear poured into the house like a swarm of beetles, their movements synchronized, their rifles sweeping the room with trained precision. Their boots crunched over the debris of the shattered windows, the splintered doorframe, the ruined family photos. The scent of gunpowder and cold air rushed in from outside, mixing with the faint vanilla of Nettie’s candles.

Why were people busting into this house? Why did they look like black site operatives? Why didn’t I put on thicker socks this morning? My feet were really cold.

"I just replaced those windows!" Nettie yelled from behind the couch, her voice filled with outrage. "And we just redid the floors. They’re new!"

The lead operative’s gaze locked onto me, his rifle snapping up, the barrel a black hole promising oblivion. My grip tightened on the poker, the absurdity of the situation not lost on me—an old man with a fireplace tool against a trained killer with an assault rifle.

Then, a skinny kid wearing a black hoodie, ripped jeans, and Converse sneakers walked into the living room like he was strolling into a coffee shop. He was holding a basket filled with baked goods—muffins, by the looks of it, their golden tops dusted with sugar. "Hey," he said. "Are these muffins for anyone?"

Nathan looked up from the floor, his face slack with disbelief. "Kevin?"

"Oh, my God, Kevin Jang is here?" Vanessa craned her neck, her hair mussed from being thrown to the ground. "You’re not supposed to eat bread. You have a gluten allergy."

Kevin frowned, then shrugged and stuffed a muffin into his mouth. "How did you know?" he asked around a mouthful of crumbs.

Nathan, meanwhile, took a look around, his expression shifting from confusion to dawning realization. "Are these men security for the Jang Family?"

"Yes," said Malone, finally relaxing enough to let his hostages go. He stood up and showed off a badge—some kind of sleek, matte-black thing with embossed lettering I couldn’t read from here. "I’m Malone."

"Sir!" The lead operative snapped to attention, his rifle lowering slightly. "We’re here to rescue Mr. Belmont."

"He’s fine!" yelled Nettie, popping her head up from behind the couch. "He doesn’t need rescuing."

Hmph. I begged to differ. "I’m alive and can walk out of here on my own two feet," I said, though my knees ached at the thought of movement.

"We brought vans for victim transport," said the leader to Malone. "How many will be returning to the Belmont old house?"

"Everyone," I said before Malone could answer. I returned the poker to its stand with a clatter. "Just load every human you see into the nearest van and let’s go home."

"I’m not going," said Nettie, crossing her arms. "You take Raine and leave me."

"You’re going," I said. "Raine, you gotta grab her."

Raine grinned, cracking his knuckles. "One elder extraction coming up!" He lunged before Nettie could protest, hoisting her up in a fireman’s carry as Nettie let out an indignant squawk.

Kevin, still chewing, watched the spectacle with mild interest before offering the basket to the nearest operative. "Muffin?"