Chapter 3 - Unmasking the Parasite
"It was her!" Celeste suddenly shrieked, pointing a shaking, manicured finger at Nathan from where she lay pinned on the rug. "It wasn't me! He forced me to forge those signatures! He threatened to fire me! He threatened to kill me!"
"You lying bitch!" Nathan roared, trying to lunge at her, but the tactical operator slammed him flat against the marble floor.
"Save the performance for the federal grand jury, Ms. Monroe," my father said, leaning casually on his cane. "Though I wouldn't waste your breath. The offshore accounts you created under your sister's name in Grand Cayman? Embezzled funds from Ashford Global? They were seized ten minutes ago. You are officially bankrupt."
Celeste choked on a sob, clawing uselessly at the rug. "Victoria... please! Tell him! We were friends once! I was just confused!"
I looked down at her—at the woman who sat sipping fine champagne while my blood was spilled on the floor—and felt a hollow, absolute detachment.
"I don't know you, Celeste," I said quietly. "You were never my friend. You were just the catalyst that made him show his true nature faster."
Nathan was panting, his cheek pressed against the cold black stone. Tears of pure terror finally spilled from his eyes, washing streaks through the dust on his face. The untouchable corporate king, the master of Blackthorn Manor, had been reduced to a weeping shell in under fifteen minutes.
"Victoria... please," Nathan whimpered, his voice cracking violently. "I was sick... I lost my mind! She poisoned me, Victoria! You know how she is! I love you! We built this estate together! Remember our wedding day? Remember what we promised each other?!"
I stepped toward him until my shadow completely covered his trembling form.
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"You didn't build this estate, Nathan," I said, my voice cutting through his panic with absolute clarity. "I bought the land. I paid the architects. I funded every brick of Blackthorn Manor through a blind trust that you were never clever enough to audit. You lived in my house, drank my wine, and spent my family's money while telling yourself you were a self-made god."
My father stood beside me, looking down at Nathan with sheer contempt. "The board of directors at Ashford Global has just concluded an emergency midnight session," my father added quietly. "They have unanimously voted to remove you as CEO. By 6:00 AM, the story hits the global markets. By 9:00 AM, your stock will be worthless. You will not have enough money left to hire a public defender."
