Chapter 5 - SISTERHOOD OF SNAKES
The sterile air of the clinic lobby seemed to freeze solid. For three seconds, Luca didn't move, his brain unable to reconcile the illusion of his absolute control with the reality of federal badges gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
“This is a mistake,” Luca stammered, stepping back toward his desk. “My father is Chairman Sterling. Do you know who you’re talking to? Call Judge Miller right now!”
“Judge Miller recused himself thirty minutes ago, Mr. Sterling,” Marcus said smoothly, stepping past the glass partition with his hands casually buried in his overcoat pockets. “In fact, your father is currently being questioned by the state ethics board regarding four undeclared campaign contributions routed through an offshore shell company called ‘Aura Logistics’—which, as it turns out, is registered under your mistress’s Social Security number.”
Chloe gasped, staggering backward until her spine hit the reception desk. “No! That’s not mine! Luca told me it was just a skincare franchise! I didn’t sign anything!”
“You signed over forty invoices for grey-market pharmaceuticals, Ms. Vance,” the lead agent barked, unclipping a pair of stainless-steel handcuffs from his tactical belt. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back. Both of you.”
“Jessi!” Chloe screamed, her voice hitting a piercing, hysterical pitch as the agent grabbed her wrists. “Tell them! Tell them you’re doing this out of jealousy! Tell them I’m your sister!”
I stepped forward, looking down at Chloe. For years, I had made excuses for her. When she stole money from my wallet in college, I blamed her youth. When she badmouthed me to our mother, I blamed her insecurity. When she moved into our guest room claiming her ex had abused her, I welcomed her with open arms, cooked her meals, and washed her laundry while working sixty-hour shifts in the trauma bay.
“You lost the right to call me your sister the second you dissolved sleeping pills into my daughter’s milk,” I said, my voice dead and emotionless. “You let a five-year-old girl freeze on a bare kitchen floor so you could play house in my bed.”
“I’m pregnant!” Chloe wailed, struggling against the cuffs. “You can’t arrest me, you monster! I’m carrying Luca’s baby! Luca, do something!”
Luca didn't even look at her. His eyes were wild, darting across the room, desperately calculating an escape route that didn't exist. “Jessi, please,” he choked out as the state trooper twisted his arms behind his back, ratcheting the steel cuffs around his wrists with a sharp, mechanical click. “Think about Fiona! If I go to prison, her name will be dragged through the mud! She needs her father!”
“Her father died the moment he locked her out of her bedroom,” I replied coldly.
As the agents hauled them toward the glass exit, Chloe lunged toward me, her eyes bloodshot, spitting like a rabid animal. “You think you’re so righteous! You haven't seen the final will, have you, Jessi? You think grandma left you that estate? Check the safe-deposit box at First National! Luca and I fixed that months ago! You’re getting nothing! Nothing!”
The agents dragged her through the doors, her frantic screams echoing down the marble hallway until the heavy doors swung shut.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Marcus turned to me, his brow furrowed. “Did you hear what she said about the safe-deposit box at First National?”
“My grandmother’s original trust,” I murmured, my chest tightening. “Luca insisted on moving the physical parchment deeds to a secure vault downtown six months ago. He claimed it was for disaster protection.”
“If they altered or substituted a fraudulent codicil before your grandmother passed,” Marcus said, pulling his phone out, “they could have liquidated the coastal property in Maine. We need to get to that vault before Luca’s defense team tries to access it.”
We hurried out to Marcus’s sedan, the drizzle turning into a downpour that smeared the city streets in grey sheets. As Marcus navigated through midday traffic, my phone chimed with a high-priority alert from the private security firm guarding the extended-stay hotel where I had left Fiona.
I tapped the notification. It was a live feed from the hallway camera outside Suite 402.
On the screen, a tall woman dressed in an expensive trench coat was standing directly outside my suite’s door. She pulled a universal electronic lock-pick tool from her purse and slid it into the keycard slot.
May you like
It wasn't Chloe. Chloe was in federal custody.
It was my mother.
