Chapter 4: Blood and Ink
\nI stared at the signature until the letters blurred into a meaningless smear of blue ink.<\/p>\n
*Justin.*<\/p>\n
My mind violently rewound through the events of the night. Justin, bursting into the emergency room. Justin, drenched in snow, roaring in agony, his face twisted in heartbreak at the sight of his wife fused to my husband.<\/p>\n
It had all been a performance. Or rather, a partial one.<\/p>\n
Justin hadn\u2019t orchestrated the cheating. Maya and Kenneth\u2019s sordid affair in that cheap motel was a genuine betrayal\u2014a rogue variable. But the financial ruin? The Blackwood Syndicate? The theft of my inheritance? That was Justin\u2019s design.<\/p>\n
When our father died, he left the lion\u2019s share of the family empire, **Sterling Holdings**, to me, deeming Justin too reckless, too emotionally volatile to run the company. Justin had smiled at the funeral, hugged me, and told me our father made the right choice.<\/p>\n
For two years, my own brother had been using Kenneth as a trojan horse. Justin funded Kenneth\u2019s embezzlement, hiding behind the Blackwood Syndicate shell company, slowly draining my assets to take back the empire he believed was his birthright. And Kenneth, ever the greedy parasite, had played along\u2014until his arrogance led him to sleep with Justin\u2019s wife. Justin wasn\u2019t screaming in the ER because his marriage was broken; he was screaming because his pawn had humiliated him.<\/p>\n
I was surrounded by monsters. They had smiled at my dinner table, drank my wine, and systematically plotted to destroy my mind, my body, and my legacy.<\/p>\n
I stood up, leaving the documents spread across the desk like a map of a war zone. I checked my gold Cartier watch. It was 4:15 a.m.<\/p>\n
I had forty-six hours until the Blackwood foreclosure was legally executed. Forty-six hours to rewrite the ending of this tragedy.<\/p>\n
I pulled out my phone and dialed a number that wasn\u2019t saved in my contacts. It rang three times before a gruff, sleep-heavy voice answered.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you have any idea what time it is, Sabrina?\u201d **Elias Vance** grumbled. Elias was a former forensic accountant for the SEC who now operated in the grey areas of corporate warfare. He was expensive, ruthless, and entirely loyal to the highest bidder.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need you at my house in twenty minutes, Elias,\u201d I said, my voice completely devoid of emotion. \u201cBring your encrypted servers. I have a forty-million-dollar offshore puzzle that needs to be rerouted by tomorrow morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRerouted?\u201d Elias paused, the sleep instantly vanishing from his voice. \u201cSabrina, if those funds are locked in Cayman shell accounts, we need authorization. We need the account holder\u2019s biometric approval or a physical master key.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the bloody smear on my Armani sleeve from where I had brushed against the ER curtain.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe account holder is currently unconscious and heavily sedated in the surgical recovery ward at St. Jude\u2019s,\u201d I replied. \u201cI will get you the biometric approval. You just find the backdoor.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis sounds highly illegal, Mrs. Rollins.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll double your usual rate. Twenty minutes, Elias.\u201d I hung up.<\/p>\n
I walked to the adjoining master bathroom and turned on the cold water. I splashed my face, watching the water drip from my chin in the mirror. The woman staring back at me looked terrifying. The loving wife and the supportive sister were dead, murdered in the dark of this office.<\/p>\n
It was time to bury the bodies.
\n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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