Chapter 8 - THE CONFESSIONTen minutes later, Arthur Pendelton sat across from me in the glass-walled conservatory. The moonlight poured over the exotic orchids, casting soft shadows across the room. Arthur looked older, thinner, and deeply troubled. He held a weathered leather journal in his hands, clutching it as if it were a lifeline.
"Elena," Arthur began, his voice trembling slightly. "I shouldn't be here. If Marcus finds out I came, he’ll probably have my remaining shares stripped. But... there is something you need to know before Richard's trial begins."
I crossed my arms, studying him carefully. "Speak, Arthur. But make it quick."
He slid the leather journal across the glass table. "This belonged to Richard’s father—Jonathan Sterling. Before he passed away... he left explicit instructions that were never executed."
I glanced down at the journal, noticing the embossed family crest on the cover. "What kind of instructions?"
"Jonathan knew what Richard was," Arthur confessed, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He knew Richard lacked the moral fortitude to run the empire. That’s why Jonathan originally set up the primary trust to be split equally between you and Richard, with absolute veto power granted to you upon marriage. But Richard... with the help of his mother, falsified the legal documents right after your wedding to strip your name off the primary deeds."
I felt a cold shiver run down my spine, though not from surprise. It was the final puzzle piece locking into place. "So they didn't just deceive me socially; they committed felony forgery from day one."
"Yes," Arthur nodded miserably. "And there’s more. The night of the car crash—the one that traumatized Leo—it wasn't just a random accident. Richard was driving under the influence with clients in the car, trying to cover up a botched corporate merger. When Leo witnessed the aftermath and developed severe PTSD, Victoria and Richard conspired to hide him away and gaslight you into thinking the boy was unstable, simply because they didn't want a 'defective' heir ruining their public image."
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The air in the conservatory seemed to vanish. Every ounce of lingering doubt, every faint shadow of past affection I had ever held for the man I married, evaporated into pure, righteous fury.
They didn't just neglect my son. They broke him. And then they blamed him for it.
