Chapter 7
957words
I calmly applied nail polish as I replied, "Dad, have you forgotten? You once said a bastard like me didn't deserve the Gray name."
A thud came from the other end of the line—the sound of someone dropping to their knees.
"Zoe, Dad was wrong... I'm begging you, for the sake of our blood..."
I hung up and glanced at my computer screen. Gray Group's stock had crashed to its limit, vaporizing billions in market value.
Ethan returned from his rehabilitation session, beads of sweat still glistening on his forehead. He handed me a folder. "Here are the hotel records for Pamela and Leo Lambert. Ready to release them?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. Let's let them sweat a little longer."
Pamela finally snapped.
She scaled the wall of the Hawkins estate under cover of darkness, only to be immediately caught by security. I instructed them to bring her to the reception room.
"Zoe! You fucking bitch!" She lunged at me the moment she saw me, but the guards restrained her instantly.
I motioned for everyone to leave, leaving just the two of us alone.
"Sister, visiting so late at night? Did you miss me that much?" I asked with a smile.
Pamela's eyes were bloodshot. "It was you, wasn't it? Leo wants to break up with me, and Father's threatening to throw me out!"
I took a leisurely sip from my teacup. "This is merely the beginning. When Mother died, I was only ten. How did you all treat me then?"
I slapped her hard across the face.
Pamela clutched her cheek and let out a sudden, manic laugh. "You think you've won? Let me tell you something—Leo Lambert has dirt on the Hawkins family!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
She declared triumphantly, "While Ethan was in a coma, someone in the Hawkins family embezzled millions, and Leo has all the evidence!"
I sighed, pulled out my phone, and played a recording. Leo Lambert's voice filled the room: "Pamela, those documents are fake. I was lying to you..."
The blood drained from Pamela's face.
Pamela crumpled onto the carpet, her perfect makeup streaked with tears. She stared at my phone as if it were some horrific monster, mumbling, "Impossible... he promised me..."
"Promised he'd help you reclaim the title of Mrs. Hawkins? Said he'd help you crush me and restore your glory?" I pocketed my phone and looked down at her. "Pamela, you still don't get it. You never lost to me—you lost to your own greed and stupidity."
She suddenly lunged at me like a feral animal, her manicured nails slashing toward my face. "I'll kill you! You stole my life, you thieving bitch!"
The guards caught her just in time, pinning her firmly to the sofa. Pamela's struggles gradually subsided into pathetic sobs. Watching her broken state, I felt no triumph—only a hollow sense of completion.
"Take her away," I instructed the guards. "Charge her with trespassing. Follow every legal procedure to the letter."
As they dragged Pamela out, she let out a piercing shriek: "Zoe! I'll haunt you from beyond the grave if I have to!"
The moment the door closed, Ethan's voice came from behind me: "All handled?"
I turned to find him standing in the bedroom doorway, still in his workout clothes, face flushed from exertion. His recovery had been remarkably swift—he could already walk while steadying himself against the wall.
"Mmm." I hurried over to support him. "Why did you come down alone? The doctor said you need supervision."
He seized the opportunity to take my hand, his palm warm and steady. "I heard shouting." He paused, then asked softly, "Did I scare you?"
I shook my head, leaning into his embrace. His chest was still thin, yet it provided an unexpected sense of security. "After waiting ten years, this is nothing."
He tightened his arms around me, resting his chin atop my head. "You won't face any of this alone anymore."
The next day, news broke that Pamela was being sued for criminal trespassing. The Gray family, already reeling from their stock collapse, now faced this additional disaster. My father called again, his voice desperate: "Zoe, please... for the sake of the times I held you as a child... please drop the charges against Pamela."
"Held me?" I sneered. "You must be confused. As far back as I can remember, you barely acknowledged my existence. Yet when Pamela shattered your prized vase, you smiled and called her 'spirited.'"
A long silence followed, then a heavy sigh. "We wronged you and your mother terribly."
This long-overdue apology had taken fifteen years to arrive. Now that I finally heard it, I felt nothing. "Save your apologies," I said flatly. "The courts will handle Pamela. As for Gray Group, with conclusive evidence of fraud and embezzlement, it's beyond salvation."
I hung up and silenced my phone. Ethan walked in with a glass of warm milk and handed it to me. "Don't let them get to you."
I accepted the milk, feeling warmth spread from my fingertips to my heart. "I'm fine."
He sat beside me and picked up the documents on the table. "I've identified our mole—Mitchell Hawkins, my cousin from the second branch. While my father was critically ill and I was comatose, he siphoned millions from our offshore accounts."
I looked at him. "Is the evidence solid?"
"Absolutely," he nodded. "The fake evidence Leo Lambert had was created under Mitchell's direction. He planned to blackmail the Gray family, but never expected you'd intercept it."
"What's our next move?"
A cold gleam flashed in Ethan's eyes. "Time for some spring cleaning."
