Chapter 12 - THE LAST TRAP
I was furious.
Not disappointed.
Not hurt.
Furious.
“You lied to me again.”
Christopher stood across the conference room.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“That sentence should be illegal in this family.”
“Genevieve—”
“My mother lied about you. You lied about the trust. Chad lied about everything.”
“I did not lie about being your father.”
“Congratulations.”
He flinched.
Good.
I wanted him to feel something.
“Why tell me forty?”
“Because there is another clause.”
Naomi pulled up the original trust documents.
Christopher explained.
“If I am alive when you turn forty, control begins transferring gradually to you.”
“But if you die first?”
“You receive full control immediately.”
“Victor wants you dead.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“He expected to manipulate you during the transfer.”
“Through Chad?”
“Yes.”
It was elegant.
Horrible.
But elegant.
Frame me.
Destroy my credibility.
Separate me from my son.
Kill Christopher.
Then present Chad as the only person I could trust.
Except Chad had become greedy.
He stole additional money.
He slept with Brenda.
He stopped following Victor’s instructions.
The conspiracy collapsed because Chad was too selfish to remain useful.
Naomi pointed toward Victor’s video.
“He wants Christopher to know he’s coming.”
“No,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
“He wants Dad to hide.”
Christopher narrowed his eyes.
“Explain.”
“Victor has spent decades believing you take things from him.”
“Yes.”
“He doesn’t want to shoot you from across a street.”
I looked at the video.
“He wants you afraid.”
Christopher’s expression changed.
“And he wants me to come to him.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Victor.
I answered.
“Hello?”
“Genevieve.”
“Where are you?”
He laughed softly.
“You sound like your father.”
“What do you want?”
“Christopher.”
“No.”
“You don't get to choose.”
“I already did.”
Silence.
“What does that mean?”
“I choose my son. I choose my life. I choose not to spend another minute cleaning up the damage caused by three men who think every woman around them is a chess piece.”
Christopher glanced at me.
Victor's voice hardened.
“Put him on.”
“No.”
“Genevieve.”
“You want him? Come get him.”
Christopher’s eyebrows rose.
Victor went quiet.
I continued.
“You've spent twenty-three years planning revenge. Prove you're not a coward.”
“Where?”
I looked at Christopher.
He understood immediately.
His oldest hotel project.
The unfinished Lindqvist Grand downtown.
Closed for renovations.
Private security.
Controlled access.
We gave Victor the address.
Then we built the trap.
At midnight, he arrived.
Not alone.
Two armed men entered through the service garage.
Federal agents watched from concealed positions.
Christopher stood in the dark ballroom.
I stood beside him.
“You shouldn't be here,” he whispered.
“Family tradition.”
The lights came on.
Victor stepped through the doors.
He looked at Christopher.
Then me.
“So.”
He smiled.
“The happy family finally reunites.”
Christopher raised his chin.
“You wanted me.”
Victor lifted a gun.
“Yes.”
A laser dot appeared on Christopher’s chest.
Then another dot appeared.
On mine.
Victor smiled.
May you like
“You really thought I came with only two men?”
And somewhere above us, glass shattered.
