Chapter 5 - Unmasking the ParasiteThe color drained entirely from Carter’s face, leaving him looking like a corpse caught in the harsh afternoon glare. Behind him, Khloe peered fearfully around the doorframe, her carefully applied makeup streaked with panic now that she realized her meal ticket had instantly expired.
"You..." Carter whispered, his voice cracking with a mixture of shock and utter disbelief. "You own the trust? You’re the primary anonymous investor behind Sterling Global Assets?"
"I founded the holding company three years before I even met you, Carter," I replied, my voice carrying effortlessly across the silent tarmac. "When you were sleeping in your car with a half-baked algorithm that crashed every time you inputted more than ten thousand data points, who sat up for seventy-two straight nights rewriting your source code? Who secured the venture capital from my own personal inheritance when every bank in the city laughed you out of their lobby?"
Carter opened his mouth, but no words came out. His lips worked silently like a fish gasping for air.
"You told me to 'know my place' on that plane," I continued, stepping closer until I could smell the stale champagne on his breath. "You were right about one thing, Carter. My place is at the very top. Yours was always just a rented chair."
Evelyn, having finally pushed her way past the panicking vice presidents, shrieked as she thrust herself forward, pointing a trembling finger right at my face.
"You ungrateful, manipulative bitch!" Evelyn screamed, her voice cracking with hysteria. "How dare you do this to your own husband! After everything he’s done for you, after the social standing he gave you! You’re nothing without a man to take care of you! I’ll make sure you rot in court for this!"
I didn't even blink. I simply signaled to Julian, who was stepping out of the Rolls-Royce behind me holding a second, thicker leather folder.
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"Actually, Evelyn," Julian interjected smoothly, tossing a set of certified property deeds right onto the tarmac at her feet. "As of ten minutes ago, the deed to your sprawling Connecticut mansion—the one purchased entirely using the subsidiary funds Samantha’s trust distributed—has been revoked. The eviction notice was filed this morning. Movers will be at your front gate by tomorrow at 8:00 AM."
Evelyn stared down at the documents, let out a piercing shriek of pure, unadulterated rage, and collapsed backward into the arms of the terrified CFO.
