Chapter 11 - Four Billion Reasons
Four billion dollars.
I stared at Marcus as if he had spoken another language.
“I clean hotel rooms on weekends.”
Nobody answered.
“I owe fourteen hundred dollars on a credit card.”
Still nothing.
“And you're telling me I own four billion dollars?”
Victor corrected me.
“Control assets worth approximately four billion.”
“That does not make this sound better.”
Dominic almost smiled.
Then he became serious again.
“The money is not all clean.”
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
He didn't dodge it.
“Some businesses are legitimate. Real estate. Shipping. Restaurants. Construction.”
“And the rest?”
His eyes met mine.
“Are not.”
I thought about everything I had heard growing up.
Sterling.
Syndicate.
Mob boss.
Untouchable.
“Then I don't want it.”
Victor stared at me.
“You can't just walk away.”
“Watch me.”
Dominic said, “Elena.”
“No.”
I pointed toward the smoke-stained hallway.
“This family lost babies over money.”
I pointed at Cassandra.
“She was raised as an investment.”
Then at Margaret.
“She tried to burn evidence twice.”
My voice shook.
“And Lucia spent her whole life hiding because of it.”
Nobody interrupted me.
“I don't want a mansion.”
“You don't have to live here,” Dominic said.
“I don't want power.”
“Good.”
That surprised me.
Dominic stepped closer.
“You should never want power for its own sake.”
I stared at him.
“That's a strange thing for you to say.”
“Yes.”
He accepted it.
Marcus returned with news.
The team at Margaret’s house had found the trust.
They also found ledgers.
Bank transfers.
Names.
Enough evidence to reopen the East Wing fire investigation and expose decades of corruption.
Margaret was finally handcuffed.
She didn't resist.
As officers led her away, she stopped in front of me.
“Lucia lied to you every day.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
“She told you she was your mother.”
“She was.”
“She stole you.”
“She saved me.”
Margaret smiled cruelly.
“You really believe love changes blood?”
I looked at Cassandra.
Then at Dominic.
Then back at Margaret.
“No.”
I touched my locket.
“I believe love tells you what blood is worth.”
Her smile disappeared.
Police took her away.
Cassandra remained.
She sat alone beside the fireplace.
Her expensive dress was torn.
Mascara streaked down her face.
For once, nobody was serving her.
Nobody was afraid of her.
I approached.
She looked up.
“Come to celebrate?”
“No.”
“You should.”
“I don't feel like celebrating.”
“You won.”
“This isn't a game.”
“It was to my mother.”
I sat across from her.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, “Did Lucia ever talk about another baby?”
“No.”
Cassandra nodded.
“Of course not.”
“She may not have known where you were.”
“She knew.”
“How?”
Cassandra reached into her dress pocket.
She pulled out an old photograph.
Lucia stood on a sidewalk.
Holding my hand.
Across the street was a little girl with Margaret Vance.
Cassandra.
Age six.
On the back Lucia had written:
Sophia is alive. Margaret has her. I cannot take both without getting them killed.
My eyes filled.
Cassandra stared at the floor.
“She watched me.”
“She protected you from a distance.”
“She left me with Margaret.”
“She may have thought that was safer.”
Cassandra wiped her face.
“She was wrong.”
Before I could answer, Marcus rushed in.
“Dominic.”
Something in his voice made everyone stand.
“What?”
“The officers transporting Margaret were hit on Tremont.”
My chest tightened.
“Is she dead?”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
He looked at Cassandra.
“Someone took her.”
Cassandra went pale.
“Who?”
May you like
Marcus looked at Dominic.
“Your father.”
