Chapter 10 - Brandon’s Last BetrayalI wanted to believe the signature was forged.
Ethan said no.
Even Brandon, when he learned what I planned to do, said no.
I went anyway.
Not inside.
I wasn’t suicidal.
Federal agents established surveillance around Margaret’s estate at 11:20 p.m.
Ruiz reluctantly allowed me to remain in a command vehicle parked two streets away.
My injuries kept me from doing anything foolish.
At least, that was his theory.
Inside the van, six screens showed different camera feeds.
One came from Thomas.
He had somehow placed equipment inside Margaret’s study.
Another showed the front gate.
A third showed the rear garden.
At 11:46, a black Mercedes arrived.
Sterling-March executives.
At 11:51, Judge Carver entered.
At 11:58, Charles Whitmore began organizing documents.
Midnight.
Margaret walked into the study.
She wore white.
I almost laughed.
“Where’s Brandon?” Carver asked.
“Unavailable.”
“We need his signature.”
“I have it.”
Margaret removed a folder.
Forgery.
Again.
Ruiz whispered, “Keep recording.”
Sterling-March’s attorney examined the documents.
“We were told Claire Carter had consented.”
“She will.”
“She hasn’t?”
Margaret’s expression hardened.
“You are purchasing intellectual property, not a family history lesson.”
The attorney hesitated.
Charles intervened.
“Everything is legally documented.”
That was almost funny.
Then Carver opened his briefcase.
“I can issue the temporary order at 12:15.”
“What basis?”
“Acute psychiatric crisis following traumatic injury.”
My jaw tightened.
“Supporting statements?”
Carver asked.
Margaret smiled.
“Her husband.”
Ruiz looked at another monitor.
Brandon sat in federal custody twenty miles away.
Margaret had forged his statement too.
The Sterling-March attorney looked increasingly uncomfortable.
“This sounds irregular.”
Margaret turned toward him.
“You’re being paid to close a transaction.”
“No. I’m being paid to ensure my client doesn’t acquire contaminated assets.”
Good man.
Margaret stared him down.
Then Charles said, “Give us the room.”
The pharmaceutical representatives left.
Ruiz immediately dispatched two agents to intercept them.
Inside the study, Margaret dropped the friendly mask.
“Carver, sign the order.”
“I haven’t been paid the second half.”
“You will be.”
“I want it first.”
“You’re becoming tedious.”
Carver leaned back.
“Gregory is dead. Martin was arrested. Evelyn vanished. Your position is deteriorating.”
Margaret stepped closer.
“You have been taking my money for nine years.”
“Which is why I know when to leave.”
Charles stood.
“You’re not leaving.”
Carver’s face changed.
That was when someone knocked.
Margaret froze.
“Who is it?”
A man answered.
“Jonathan.”
Thomas.
Every person inside the command van leaned toward the screens.
Margaret went white.
Charles reached inside his jacket.
“Don’t,” Margaret said.
She opened the door.
Thomas Reed walked inside.
He looked older than Dad.
Harder.
He carried no visible weapon.
Margaret stared at him.
“You should be dead.”
“So should Arthur.”
Silence.
My breath caught.
Thomas closed the door.
“You killed Gregory.”
Margaret laughed.
“You think I killed Gregory?”
“Didn’t you?”
“No.”
Thomas’s expression shifted.
“Then who did?”
Margaret looked toward Charles.
Charles looked offended.
“Don’t look at me.”
Then Judge Carver stood.
“I’m leaving.”
Thomas blocked the door.
“No.”
Carver reached for his phone.
Thomas said, “Ask Margaret why Gregory had twelve million dollars in a Cayman account.”
Margaret’s face changed.
“What?”
Thomas smiled.
“He stole from you.”
Charles frowned.
“That’s impossible.”
“No. It’s appropriate.”
The room fractured.
For years, these people had survived because they trusted greed more than loyalty.
Now greed was turning them against one another.
Thomas placed a small recorder on the desk.
“Gregory confessed before he died.”
Margaret stepped toward it.
“What did he say?”
Thomas pressed play.
Gregory’s voice filled the room.
“I altered the brake service record. Jonathan paid the mechanic. Margaret arranged the clinic.”
My hands clenched.
Dad.
Ruiz watched silently.
The recording continued.
“Arthur survived longer than anyone expected. Margaret wanted him conscious for the signature.”
I shut my eyes.
Then Gregory said:
“Charles administered the final injection.”
My eyes opened.
Charles went pale.
Margaret stared at him.
“You told me Arthur’s heart failed.”
Charles backed away.
“He wouldn’t sign.”
“You killed him?”
“You told me to solve it!”
“I told you to persuade him!”
Their voices rose.
Ruiz whispered, “We have conspiracy admissions.”
But he waited.
He wanted more.
So did I.
Thomas smiled bitterly.
“Thirty years of loyalty, Margaret. And this is what you built.”
She turned on him.
“You arranged the crash.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted Arthur dead more than anyone.”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t stand there pretending you’re righteous.”
“I’m not.”
Thomas looked directly toward the hidden camera.
“I’m guilty.”
I swallowed.
He continued.
“I paid the mechanic. I helped plan the route. I gave Margaret Arthur’s schedule.”
Ruiz nodded to an agent.
They had enough to arrest him too.
Thomas looked back at Margaret.
“But I didn’t know you planned to abduct him alive.”
Margaret laughed.
“You think that distinction matters?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“It matters to Claire.”
Margaret’s smile disappeared.
“She’s watching, isn’t she?”
My blood turned cold.
Thomas said nothing.
Margaret looked around the room.
Then directly at the hidden camera.
“Hello, Claire.”
Every agent moved.
Ruiz grabbed his radio.
“Go. Go now.”
On screen, Margaret pulled a pistol from behind the desk.
Thomas raised his hands.
“Margaret.”
“You always were sentimental.”
Police vehicles surged toward the estate.
Margaret aimed at the camera.
Before she fired, the study door burst open.
Ethan tackled her.
The gun discharged.
The camera went black.
I screamed his name.
Ruiz ordered me to stay in the van.
I ignored him.
I opened the door and limped into the night.
Sirens surrounded the estate.
Agents ran past me.
Someone shouted.
Then two officers emerged carrying Judge Carver in handcuffs.
Charles followed.
Then Thomas.
Hands behind his back.
Blood on his shirt.
Alive.
I stared at the doorway.
“Where’s Ethan?”
Nobody answered.
“Where is my brother?”
Paramedics rushed inside.
Seconds later, a stretcher appeared.
Ethan lay on it.
Blood covered his shoulder.
I nearly collapsed.
His eyes opened.
“Claire?”
I grabbed his hand.
“You idiot.”
He smiled weakly.
“Family trait.”
“You got shot.”
“Shoulder.”
“You scared me.”
“Sorry.”
Behind him, Margaret emerged in handcuffs.
For the first time since I had known her, she wasn’t smiling.
She saw me.
Then she saw Ethan alive.
Then Thomas being placed into another vehicle.
The entire empire she built was collapsing around her.
“You,” she whispered.
I stepped closer.
An officer tried to stop me.
I didn’t touch her.
I didn’t need to.
“You pushed the wrong woman’s daughter,” I said.
Her face twisted.
“This isn’t over.”
I looked at the flashing lights.
The federal agents.
The reporters already gathering outside the gates.
Charles in custody.
Carver in custody.
Thomas confessing.
“Margaret?”
I smiled.
“Yes, it is.”
But I was wrong.
Because thirty minutes later, Agent Ruiz entered the ambulance bay holding a tablet.
“Claire.”
Something in his voice terrified me.
“What?”
“The Hawthorne transfer.”
“What about it?”
“It went through.”
My heart stopped.
“How?”
“Someone authorized it six minutes before the raid.”
“Who?”
Ruiz turned the screen toward me.
May you like
The signature belonged to the person who still legally shared my marital assets.
Brandon Carter.
