Chapter 5 - The Dead Man's SwitchThe phone screen flickered violently as the audio cut in and out over the screech of highway tires. Arthur Pendelton’s face was pale, bathed in the harsh amber glow of dashboard lights as he drove recklessly through the stormy New York night.
"Arthur, slow down! Where are you?" I demanded, leaning closer to the screen while Mara watched with wide, terrified eyes from beside me.
"I can't slow down, Julian—they're right behind me!" Arthur yelled, glancing frantically into his rearview mirror. "Your mother found out I was talking to a federal investigator. The whole setup six years ago with Mara's forged documents? That wasn't just about keeping you two apart. It was a smoke screen to embezzle twelve million dollars from the corporate restructuring fund while everyone was distracted by the scandal!"
Before I could process the magnitude of his words, a blinding pair of high-beam headlights flashed across the video feed, followed by the sickening crunch of metal as another vehicle slammed violently into Arthur’s rear bumper.
"Arthur! Arthur!" I shouted at the screen.
"They're running me off the road!" Arthur screamed, his voice drowned out by the screech of tearing steel and shattering glass. Then, the video feed went completely black, replaced by a flat, endless buzzing tone.
The phone slipped from my trembling hand, clattering loudly against the kitchen granite.
"Julian..." Mara grabbed my arm, her fingers digging into my jacket. "What just happened? Who was that?"
"That was Arthur Pendelton, our former general counsel," I said, my voice hollow, the blood rushing in my ears. "He just told me my mother didn't just frame you and steal our lives—she embezzled twelve million dollars, and she used your disappearance as a distraction. And now... they just ran him off the road."
"We need to call the police," Mara said, reaching for her own phone.
"No," I stopped her, shaking my head grimly. "If my mother has enough leverage to silence a former general counsel with federal immunity, local precinct cops won't do a damn thing. They’re probably already on her payroll. We need digital forensics, we need hard evidence, and we need it before her security team locks down the corporate headquarters."
Just then, the front door’s electronic chime chimed softly.
Mara and I froze, exchanging a look of sheer terror. Had Vance and the goons returned? Were my mother's enforcers already here to finish what they started?
I motioned for Mara to stay back by the kitchen, quietly sliding a heavy iron skillet across the counter into her hand while I crept stealthily toward the hallway entrance. I grabbed a heavy decorative brass umbrella stand by the door, gripping it tightly with both hands, bracing for the worst.
The smart-lock clicked, the heavy oak door slowly pushed open, and a breathless, disheveled figure stumbled into the foyer.
It wasn't a security guard. It was Brielle Cartwright.
Her designer trench coat was soaked with rain, her hair was plastered to her face, and her eyes were wide with a frantic, desperate panic. She slammed the door shut behind her, locked all three deadbolts, and leaned against the wood, gasping for air.
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"Brielle?" I lowered the brass stand, stepping out into the hallway in sheer disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Brielle pushed her wet hair out of her face, looking straight past me at Mara, before locking her gaze back onto mine. "Your mother just executed a hostile takeover of my family’s shipping lines, Julian. She threatened to ruin my father if I didn't back her up in court tomorrow morning. She isn't just fighting to keep you away from Mara—she’s burning the entire Whitaker empire to the ground to cover her tracks, and she’s coming for your kids next."
