Chapter 5 - The Rat Sinks the Ship
By midnight, the news of the Ross Consolidated collapse had broken the internet.
Social media feeds were inundated with clips of the ballroom confrontation. The video of me holding Daisy’s urn while Sabrina was led away in handcuffs had garnered over forty million views across TikTok, X, and Facebook. The court documents, released publicly by Callahan’s office under public transparency motions, painted a horrific picture of corporate embezzlement directly causing the death of a toddler.
Public outrage was instantaneous, feral, and absolute.
Outside the luxury boutique hotel where Mason had fled after being ejected from the gala, hundreds of protesters had gathered. They held up signs bearing Daisy’s picture, chanting slogans and demanding criminal charges against the “Child Killer CEO.”
Inside the cramped hotel suite—the only room he could book before his last backup credit card was canceled—Mason paced the floor like a caged, rabid dog.
The door burst open, and Brenda marched in, her face red from crying, her expensive makeup smeared down her cheeks.
“They took my car, Mason!” Brenda shrieked, slamming her designer purse onto the bed. “Two men with tow trucks showed up at my gated community and hooked up my Porsche right in front of the neighbors! They said the lease was tied to Ross Consolidated! And my landlord called—he’s evicting me because the penthouse rent was paid through the family office!”
Mason didn't look at her. He was staring at the television on the wall, where a prominent legal commentator was analyzing his chances of avoiding prison.
*“...what we’re looking at here is not just a standard civil dispute between spouses,”* the commentator was saying. *“This is a textbook case of reckless endangerment resulting in death, combined with wire fraud and corporate malfeasance. If Megan Price and Sabrina Cole corroborate that Mason Ross willfully neglected his fiduciary medical duties, Mason isn't just looking at bankruptcy—he is looking at ten to fifteen years in a federal penitentiary.”*
“Turn that damn thing off!” Brenda screamed, grabbing the remote and throwing it against the screen, shattering the display into blackness. “Did you hear what I said? I have nowhere to live! Mom called me from Florida—her country club membership was revoked this afternoon because the Vance Trust pulled its sponsorship! How could you let this happen? You told us we were untouchable!”
Mason whirled around, his eyes wild and bloodshot, his face contorted in absolute fury.
“Shut up, Brenda! Just shut your selfish mouth!” he roared, lunging toward his sister until she cowered back against the door. “You’re worried about your Porsche? You’re worried about your hair appointments? I am facing prison! Everything I built is gone!”
“You didn’t build anything!” Brenda shouted back, tears of anger spilling down her cheeks. “That’s what the news is saying! You stole that girl’s father’s money and pretended you were some Wall Street genius! You dragged this whole family into your fantasy, and now we’re all ruined! And what for? For that little gold-digging whore Sabrina?”
As if summoned by the curse, the suite’s landline phone rang.
Mason snatched it up. “Hello?”
“Mr. Ross,” a gruff voice said. “This is the front desk. Miss Cole is downstairs. She’s with two bail bondsmen and she’s demanding to speak with you.”
“Send her up,” Mason barked, slamming the receiver down.
Five minutes later, Sabrina walked into the room.
She looked nothing like the glamorous executive who had walked out of elevators on Mason’s arm. Her emerald gown was rumpled, her hair was disheveled, and her wrists bore dark red welts from the handcuffs. She carried a thick manila envelope under her arm.
“You coward,” Sabrina snarled, throwing the envelope onto the table. “You absolute, gutless coward.”
Mason stepped up to her, his jaw clenching. “Me? *You* stole that money, Sabrina! You diverted Daisy’s medication funds to pay for your damn jewelry and a jet! You murdered my daughter!”
“Your daughter?” Sabrina laughed, a bitter, venomous sound that filled the room. “You didn't give a damn about that child, Mason! Don't you dare stand there and pretend you’re a grieving father! You told me three months ago that you wished Claire would just let the girl die so you wouldn't have to listen to her whining about medical bills anymore!”
The room went dead silent.
Brenda looked at Mason, her eyes widening in pure horror. Even Brenda, vain and cruel as she was, looked physically sickened by what she had just heard.
“Did you... did you say that, Mason?” Brenda whispered.
Mason took a step back, his face turning pale. “She’s lying. She’s trying to save herself.”
“I don't have to lie,” Sabrina said coldly, tapping the manila envelope. “Megan kept voice notes, Mason. She kept every single audio message you sent her while you were drunk in hotel rooms. You told Megan that if Claire called about the medicine, she was to ignore the requests until after the Vanguard merger closed because you didn't want any liabilities on the balance sheet.”
Sabrina pulled out a printed transcript and threw it in his face.
“The prosecutor offered me a deal two hours ago,” Sabrina whispered, her eyes glittering with malice. “Full immunity on the manslaughter charge if I turn over all the offshore routing numbers and testify that you instructed Megan to lock the medical accounts. And guess what, Mason? I signed it.”
Mason’s knees buckled. He stumbled backward, collapsing onto the edge of the unmade hotel bed.
“You... you testified against me?” he stammered.
“Of course I did,” Sabrina spat, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “Did you really think I loved you, Mason? You were an arrogant, mediocre man who got lucky with an heiress’s money. The only thing attractive about you was the Vance fortune. And now that it’s gone, you’re just a pathetic, broke criminal.”
Sabrina turned on her heel and walked out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
May you like
Brenda looked at Mason one last time—not with anger, but with pure, unadulterated disgust. Without saying another word, she picked up her purse, opened the door, and left him alone in the dark.
***
