Chapter 7
323words
Brandon had been entrenched in the Sterling family for years—impossible he didn't have contingency plans.
That evening in my master bedroom.
The lights were dim.
I lay in bed, feigning deep sleep.
The lock clicked softly as it was picked. A shadowy figure slipped in, silenced handgun raised.
Just as he raised the weapon—
BANG!
My gun, hidden beneath the covers, fired first.
The bullet shattered his wrist, sending his weapon clattering to the floor.
The lights blazed on.
Four elite guards rushed from hiding and pinned the assassin to the ground—a hired thug on Brandon's payroll.
I sat up and slipped on my silk robe.
"Take him to the interrogation room. I want a full confession recorded."
Half an hour later in the guest room.
Brandon and Tiffany frantically packed cash and jewelry, preparing to flee.
BANG!
The door crashed open.
The pair jumped in terror.
"In such a hurry to leave?"
I tossed the hitman's recorded confession onto the bed.
"Hiring someone to murder the family patriarch's widow—quite bold, Brandon."
Brandon crawled toward me on his knees. "Catherine! Mother! I was wrong! Please spare me! I'll give up everything!"
This was the first time he'd called me "mother."
I kicked him aside.
Looking at this pathetic pair of defeated dogs, I smiled.
"Don't worry, I won't kill you. That would be too merciful."
"Brandon, do you know how many messes Arthur left behind?"
"Money laundering, smuggling, tax fraud… the FBI has been watching us for years."
Brandon's face drained of color. "What… what are you planning?"
I removed a thick stack of documents from my briefcase—falsified accounts and evidence I'd prepared long ago, already bearing Brandon's fingerprints.
"The family needs a scapegoat."
"Since you've enjoyed the privileges of being young master for so many years, it's time you repaid the family."
"The police are already downstairs."
