Chapter 11 - RAYMOND’S REAL PLAN
Raymond forced us into an old control room above the mill.
Below, gunfire faded.
Federal agents were securing the lower floors.
But the control room had steel doors.
Reinforced glass.
One exit.
Raymond locked it.
Lily stayed behind me.
“You killed Victor.”
“Yes.”
“You worked with him for decades.”
“He was useful.”
“And now?”
“Now he’s dead.”
Raymond sounded almost bored.
I finally understood.
Victor had wanted revenge.
Raymond wanted inheritance.
Power.
Control.
He had used Victor’s hatred as fuel.
Then planned to eliminate him once the Blackwell empire was vulnerable.
“You arranged everything.”
“Most of it.”
“Grace?”
“Necessary.”
“Emma?”
“Leverage.”
“My father?”
Raymond’s expression changed.
“He deserved it.”
“Why?”
“Because Anthony took everything.”
“We were brothers.”
“But he was the golden son.”
“Our father chose him.”
“The family chose him.”
“The city respected him.”
“And me?”
Raymond tapped his chest.
“I was the man standing behind him.”
“So you killed him.”
“I corrected an imbalance.”
Lily whispered behind me.
“He’s crazy.”
Raymond almost laughed.
“She gets that mouth from Grace.”
My body tensed.
“Don’t talk about her.”
“You still love her.”
“Yes.”
“After she hid your child?”
“Yes.”
That surprised him.
“Why?”
“Because love isn’t the same thing as pretending people never make mistakes.”
Raymond stared at me.
Then nodded slowly.
“That’s where you and your father differ.”
“He never forgave weakness.”
“And that’s why you killed him?”
“No.”
Raymond looked toward the window.
“I killed him because he discovered what I had done to your mother.”
Every breath left my body.
“My mother died of an overdose.”
Raymond turned back.
“No.”
I couldn’t speak.
“She found my accounts.”
“She was going to tell Anthony.”
“So I gave her enough pills to make the story believable.”
For the first time in my adult life, I wanted to kill someone with my bare hands.
Not because of business.
Not because of reputation.
Because a scared eight-year-old boy had stood beside his mother’s grave believing she chose drugs over him.
And Raymond had let me believe it.
I moved.
Raymond aimed at Lily.
I stopped.
He smiled.
“There it is.”
“The Blackwell temper.”
Then a voice came through the room.
“Raymond.”
Grace.
He spun.
A speaker in the ceiling had activated.
The old mill intercom.
Grace’s voice filled the room.
“You always talk too much.”
Raymond’s face changed.
“What are you doing here?”
“Listening.”
Then Cole’s voice joined hers.
“So are twenty-seven federal agents.”
Raymond stared at the ceiling.
Grace continued.
“You just confessed to murdering Anthony Blackwell and Evelyn Blackwell.”
His hand shook.
For the first time, he looked afraid.
Then he grabbed Lily.
I lunged.
The gun fired.
Glass shattered.
Lily screamed.
I hit Raymond hard.
The weapon slid across the floor.
He punched my wounded shoulder.
Pain exploded.
I drove him into the wall.
Years of betrayal came out in every blow.
My mother.
My father.
Grace.
Emma.
Lily.
He reached for the gun.
Lily kicked it away.
Raymond grabbed her ankle.
I slammed him down.
The steel door burst open.
Agents rushed in.
Cole shouted.
“Down!”
Raymond stopped fighting.
He looked at me from the floor.
Blood covered his mouth.
Then he laughed.
“You think prison matters?”
I stood over him.
“It does to a man who spent his entire life wanting control.”
His smile disappeared.
Agents cuffed him.
Then Raymond looked at Lily.
“You should ask your father about Daniel.”
I frowned.
“What about him?”
Raymond smiled again.
“Daniel didn’t betray you for money.”
“He betrayed you because Grace asked him to.”
The room went silent.
I turned.
May you like
Grace stood in the doorway.
And she looked guilty.
