Chapter 4 - THE FAMILY BETRAYAL
The hardwood floor felt hard and unforgiving against my shoulder blades as I forced oxygen back into my lungs.
Cameron stood over me, his hands trembling as he stared down at my fallen phone resting just beyond the open doorway. He was dressed in a rumpled hoodie and sweatpants, looking nothing like the polished, well-mannered corporate fiancé who had sat at my parents’ dining table days earlier.
“Cameron,” I choked out, pressing my palms against the floor to push myself up. “You... you were in on this?”
Cameron wouldn’t meet my eyes. He cast a miserable, panicked glance toward Arthur, who stood by the desk with the same unshakeable, terrifying calm.
“Uncle Arthur said it was the only way,” Cameron mumbled, his voice cracking. “He said the land options legally belonged to our side of the family originally, before your father maneuvered the corporate restructuring ten years ago.”
“They belonged to my father because he bought them fair and square!” I snapped, scrambling to my feet and putting the heavy mahogany desk between Arthur and myself. My adrenaline was surging, every instinct screaming at me to find a way out of the trap. “And you used Vanessa? You manipulated my own sister just to get inside my gate?”
“Vanessa is exhausting,” Cameron snapped defensively, a flash of genuine malice crossing his features. “All she cared about was the flowers, the catering, and the photographs. She didn’t care about the legal paperwork I slipped into her wedding binder for her to sign on your behalf. She was too busy picking out china patterns to read the fine print.”
I stared at him, a cold wave of pity washing over the anger. My sister was a spoiled, selfish, unbearable narcissist who had thrown tomato sauce in my face because she thought the world revolved around her—and her own fiancé had treated her like an absolute fool, using her wedding as a Trojan horse to commit grand larceny.
“Does she know?” I asked quietly. “Does Vanessa know you’re stealing my land?”
Cameron hesitated, his jaw working nervously. “No. Not yet. Once the digital transfers cleared tonight, we were going to break off the engagement next week, blame it on family tension over the venue dispute, and leave the state before she figured out what the papers actually meant.”
I felt a sudden, fierce spike of protective fury. As unbearable as Vanessa was, as much as she had humiliated and screamed at me in our parents’ dining room, she did not deserve to be treated as a disposable pawn in a criminal conspiracy by the man she believed she was going to marry.
“You’re cowards,” I said, locking eyes with Cameron. “Both of you.”
Arthur didn’t blink. He reached down, picked up the external hard drive resting beside his laptop, and slid it neatly into his briefcase.
“Names and accusations are cheap, Laurel,” Arthur said smoothly, zipping the briefcase shut with a sharp, metallic zip. “By sunrise, the digital transfers will be encrypted and executed through three separate overseas shell corporations. Your land trust will be legally empty. And who do you think the courts will believe—a successful businesswoman claiming her retired CFO uncle stole digital files, or a family-approved wedding arrangement backed by signed authorization forms?”
He picked up the briefcase and gestured to Cameron.
“Grab the laptop, boy. We’re leaving. Our window of opportunity is closed.”
Cameron reached for the computer, but as his fingers brushed the keyboard, I didn’t hesitate. I lunged across the desk, grabbing the heavy glass water pitcher from the kitchenette counter, and hurled it with every ounce of strength I possessed directly toward the window.
Crash!
The thick glass shattered into a thousand glittering shards, spraying across the patio outside.
“Hey!” Cameron yelled, ducking as the glass flew past him.
“Security!” I screamed at the top of my lungs into the cool night air, my voice echoing off the limestone walls of the main house. “Intruders! Call the police!”
Arthur’s calm facade finally cracked. A look of fierce panic crossed his aged features.
“Grab him—stop her!” Arthur barked at Cameron, abandoning all pretense of gentlemanly composure as he bolted for the side door.
Cameron lunged around the desk, grabbing my arm just as I tried to dive toward the broken window. I twisted hard, bringing my heel down squarely on his instep. He yelled out in pain, loosening his grip for a crucial second, which was all the opening I needed.
I wrenched my arm free, scrambled over the shattered window frame, and hit the flagstone patio running toward the main house.
Behind me, I heard Arthur shouting, “Get the car! Move, Cameron, move!”
May you like
The heavy roar of a dark sedan engine firing up echoed from the guest suite’s private driveway.
I didn’t look back. I sprinted across the lawn, my boots pounding against the grass, heading straight for the master security console mounted by the main front door.
