2026-03-19 23:30:00The thirty days were up.
The drawing room of the St. Claire estate was set up like a courtroom. Elias sat behind a heavy oak desk, looking stern and impatient. The family lawyers stood by the wall, holding notepads.Marcus stood on the right. He looked sleek, confident. His suit was Italian silk, and he was practically vibrating with arrogance.I stood on the left. I was wearing a suit that was slightly too big, and I kept my posture slumped. I needed them to think
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CHAPTER 83
Sarah moved into the East Wing the next day."I can't leave you alone," she said, carrying a suitcase into the adjoining room. "What if you fall? What if you have a seizure? I need to be close."She was suffocating me. There was no privacy. No moment of peace.She changed the locks on the bathroom door so I couldn't lock it. She installed a baby monitor in my bedroom—a sleek, white plastic eye that stared at me from the dresser."I need to hear you breathing," she said with a sweet smile that didn't reach her eyes. "It comforts me."It was psychological warfare. She was dismantling my mind, piece by piece, stripping away my dignity until I was nothing more than a patient.That evening, she came in with dinner. It was vegetable broth this time."Open wide," she said, holding the spoon. She was sitting on the edge of my bed.It was the same silver spoon with the family crest. My grandfather used this spoon to eat
CHAPTER 82
The East Wing of the estate was a tomb. It was built in the early 1900s and rarely used, reserved for distant cousins or business partners we didn't particularly like.The air here was different from the rest of the house. It was colder, draftier. It smelled of old lavender sachets, dust, and neglect.Now, it was my cell.I stood by the window on the second day of my confinement. My room overlooked the main circular driveway.It was the only view I had of the world I used to run. The glass was cold against my forehead, a stark contrast to the burning heat in my veins.The detox was still tearing through me. My skin felt like it was two sizes too tight, stretched over bones that ached with a deep, throbbing rhythm.Every joint felt rusted. Standing there took more effort than running a marathon.But I forced myself to stand. I had to watch. I had to know.A black limousine pulled up to the front steps.I
CHAPTER 81
The heavy oak door to my father’s study didn't slam this time. It clicked shut with a soft, final sound that felt infinitely worse than a scream.I stood in the center of the room, my feet sinking into the thick Persian rug. It felt like quicksand, dragging me down, making it impossible to find my balance.My father, Elias, was standing by the massive stone fireplace. His back was to me.He was staring into the dying embers, his shoulders slumped in a way I had never seen before. He looked smaller. Older."Father," I started. My voice was rough. I tried to project confidence, but it came out as a desperate plea. "You have to listen to me. The tape is edited. Sarah changed the audio files. She spliced my voice with Julian’s."Elias didn't turn around. He just shook his head slowly in exhaustion."Do you know how much money I spent on your education, Victor?" he asked quietly. "Do you know how many strings I pulled to keep you out
CHAPTER 80
The thirty days were up.The drawing room of the St. Claire estate was set up like a courtroom. Elias sat behind a heavy oak desk, looking stern and impatient. The family lawyers stood by the wall, holding notepads.Marcus stood on the right. He looked sleek, confident. His suit was Italian silk, and he was practically vibrating with arrogance.I stood on the left. I was wearing a suit that was slightly too big, and I kept my posture slumped. I needed them to think I was still broken.Sarah sat in the front row, looking like the supportive wife. Her hand rested on her purse. I knew the tape recorder was inside."The First Trial concludes today," Elias announced. "Marcus, present your results."Marcus stepped forward. He hooked a laptop to the big screen."St. Claire Logistics," Marcus began. "When I took over, it was down 10%. Today, I am proud to announce a net profit increase of 40%."The lawyers gasped. Elias
CHAPTER 79
I was in my study—or rather, the corner of the room Sarah allowed me to use. I was pretending to look at fabric swatches for the factory, fumbling with them clumsily.But under the swatches, I was reviewing the land deeds for the East End Mill.Sarah walked in. She was humming. She had that bounce in her step that meant she had hurt someone or bought something expensive. She was wearing a red dress that looked like a warning sign."Victor," she sang. "I found something of yours."My stomach tightened. I kept my head down, forcing my hand to shake as I turned a page."What is it?" I asked, putting a tremor in my voice. "My glasses?"She walked over and placed something on the desk with a heavy clack.It was the analog tape recorder.The one I had used to record Julian Blackwood. The one I had hidden in the false bottom of my sock drawer—a place only I knew about.I froze. I stopped the fake shaking.
CHAPTER 78
I waited until 2:00 AM.Sarah was asleep. I checked. I stood over her for ten minutes, listening to the rhythm of her breathing. It was steady and deep.I didn't take the car. It had a tracker. I slipped on my shoes and hopped the back fence of the estate, ignoring the sharp pain in my ribs. I walked two miles through the dark suburbs to the bus stop.I took the night bus to the edge of Chinatown. The streets were wet and smelled of old fish, wet cardboard, and incense.I found the shop in an alleyway so narrow my shoulders brushed the brick walls on both sides. There was no neon sign. Just a dried lizard hanging in the window by a red string.I knocked. Three times slow, two times fast.The door creaked open.An old woman stood there. She was tiny, barely five feet tall, with a face like a crumpled paper bag. She was smoking a long pipe that smelled like burning autumn leaves."We are closed," she croaked.
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