Chapter 4 - The House of Cards

The fallout was instantaneous. Security converged, but Harrison stepped between me and the encroaching staff. "Touch her, and you’ll answer to the board of directors," he said, his voice cold as ice.
Philip turned pale, his legal training failing him. "Mom, think about this! This will ruin us! We’re your family!"
"You were my burden," I corrected him.
Diana was already on her phone, likely trying to spin the narrative, but she stopped when the screens in the ballroom—the ones intended for her marketing presentation—flickered to life. Instead of glossy images of their new drug, they displayed bank transfers and internal memos about the dangers of the device I was currently carrying in my chest.
The irony was not lost on me. My heart was ticking away, a product of their greed, a symbol of their neglect.
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"The police are already on their way," Harrison whispered to me. "I filed the reports this morning."
I watched as the elite of Atlanta realized they had been dining with fraudsters. I saw the look of pure, unadulterated fear on Diana’s face. It wasn't fear of prison; it was fear of losing the status she had built on my back.