Chapter 6 - The Cousin Who Poured The Drinks
Julian looked nothing like a villain.
That was the first thing I hated about him.
He was handsome in an ordinary, expensive way. Navy coat. Clean hands. Calm eyes. The kind of man strangers trusted with directions.
He pushed Regina into the room.
Vanessa crawled toward the knife.
I kicked it under the bed.
Julian laughed. “The sisters are both disappointing.”
Damian stood between Julian and Noah. “You drugged us.”
“I drugged you. She grabbed the wrong glass.” He nodded at me. “Careless.”
I wanted to throw myself at him. Noah’s fingers tightened around mine.
So I stayed.
Sometimes not moving is the hardest action in the room.
Julian aimed at Damian. “Uncle Charles turned my joke into a succession plan. Then you used the sympathy to take control of the board. Everybody won except me.”
“You were removed because you stole from the pension fund.”
“I borrowed.”
“You bought a yacht.”
“It was a modest yacht.”
The absurdity nearly made me laugh. Julian seemed offended when nobody did.
Police filled the hall beyond him but could not get a clean shot.
Regina’s face was gray. “Julian, we had an agreement.”
“You had an agreement with my uncle. He no longer controls anything.”
“Where is Rosa?” I asked.
Julian glanced at me. “Alive. For now.”
Noah whispered, “Rosa sings when she cooks.”
Julian’s eyes moved toward him.
Damian stepped sideways, blocking the view.
That small movement told me more than any speech. Whatever else he had failed to do, he was ready to take a bullet before letting Julian look at Noah again.
Julian smiled. “There’s the father.”
He ordered us downstairs and into the kitchen. Outside, police lights pulsed red through the windows.
On the table sat a laptop connected to a portable drive.
Julian told Damian to transfer two billion dollars into offshore accounts and sign a confession claiming he had arranged the original drugging to produce an heir.
“You think anyone will believe that?” Damian asked.
“They believed Vanessa gave birth.”
Fair point.
Damian sat at the laptop.
His hands did not shake.
Mine did enough for both of us.
While Julian watched the screen, Regina edged closer to the counter.
I saw a cast-iron pan beside her hand.
Our eyes met.
I did not trust her. She did not ask me to.
Damian entered the first authorization code.
Julian leaned in.
Regina swung.
The pan struck Julian’s shoulder, not his head. She missed.
He fired.
Regina dropped.
Vanessa screamed.
Damian tackled Julian across the table. The laptop fell. Officers rushed in. A second shot shattered the window.
I covered Noah with my body.
When I looked up, Julian was pinned to the floor. Damian had blood on his shirt, but it was Regina’s.
She lay beside the refrigerator, one hand pressed to her side.
Vanessa crawled to her.
“Mom.”
Regina looked past her at me.
“I kept... the bracelet,” she gasped.
“What bracelet?”
“The hospital bracelet. Yours and his.”
“Where?”
She coughed. “Blue drawer.”
Noah looked at me. “That’s where Grandma keeps your picture.”
Paramedics entered.
As they lifted Regina onto a stretcher, she caught my wrist.
“Rosa knows the rest.”
Then her eyes closed.
At the farmhouse police found a hidden cellar.
Rosa was inside, tied to a chair but alive.
Beside her stood three filing cabinets filled with medical forms, adoption drafts, payment ledgers, and photographs.
One photograph showed Charles Sterling holding newborn Noah.
Another showed Vanessa signing a document beside a hospital administrator.
The third made Damian sit down.
It showed me unconscious in a hospital bed.
Beside me, Damian stood wearing surgical scrubs, holding Noah.
On the back someone had written:
May you like
HE SAW THE BABY.
