Chapter 117 - A Faustian Pawn
Arthur gasped, his head snapping toward Eleanor in horror. "You... you killed him? You told me he died in his sleep!"
"Shut your mouth, you pathetic coward!" Eleanor snarled, the mask of refined elegance slipping completely, revealing the rabid monster beneath. "You were happy enough to spend his money! You were happy enough to sleep with both of his daughters while pretending to be a financial genius!"
Arthur stumbled to his feet, clutching his injured shoulder, terror contorting his features. "Maya! Maya, listen to me!" he pleaded, turning his desperate, bloodshot eyes toward me. "I didn't know about your father! I swear to God I didn't know! She told me you were trying to freeze my firm's capital! She promised me fifty million if I signed the divorce papers and took the maritime shares!"
"You stood in my mother's kitchen," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper that cut deeper than any shout. "You held my sister in your arms while twenty of our closest family members were celebrating my father in the next room. You looked me in the eye an hour later, kissed my cheek, and told me you loved me."
"It was an act!" Arthur sobbed, tears cutting tracks through the grime on his face. "She made me do it! She said if I didn't create a scandal that completely alienated you from the family, she would leak my firm's fraudulent tax filings to the SEC! I had no choice!"
"There is always a choice, Arthur," Liam said coldly from the doorway. "You chose greed. You chose betrayal. And now you're going to choose whether you spend the rest of your life in federal prison or die as Eleanor's collateral damage."
From outside, the distant, rising wail of multiple sirens began to echo across the rocky cliffs of Newport.
Eleanor glanced toward the heavy draped windows. The color was rapidly draining from her face, but her eyes burned with psychotic defiance. "You think the Thorne family name ends in a courtroom, Maya? You think I will allow myself to be paraded in front of reporters like a common thief?"
Her hand darted into the open desk drawer before Liam could cross the room.
She didn't pull out a gun.
May you like
She pulled out a small, heavy black detonator with a single blinking red LED.
"The yacht at the marina isn't the only vessel rigged with a thermal charge," Eleanor whispered, her lips parting in a horrific, triumphant grin. "Your father's precious archives in the sub-cellar... every document, every share certificate, every proof of your precious inheritance... it's all wired to the same frequency. If I go down, the Thorne name burns with me."
