Chapter 7 - The True Heir
The basement fell into a stunned, terrifying silence.
My dad slowly lowered his glass of scotch, his arrogant smile disappearing instantly.
Megan aimed her shotgun at her mother, screaming at her to put the handgun down.
Diane ignored Megan completely, keeping her eyes locked on my father.
Diane revealed that she had known the kidnapping was fake from the very beginning.
She had bugged my dad's home office months ago when she suspected he was hiding money.
She had listened to him plot with Greg and Megan to steal the estate.
I stared at my mother, completely baffled by her actions.
I asked her why she forged my signature and threatened me at Christmas if she knew the truth.
Diane laughed, a bitter, hollow sound.
She said she didn't do it to help my father.
She forged the document to take the money for herself before my dad could get it.
She had struck a side deal with the title company to route the funds into an offshore account in her name.
She hated me because my grandmother had explicitly bypassed her in the will.
But she hated my dad even more for trying to cut her out of the ultimate payday.
She demanded that I sign the paper right now so she could take the deed and leave the country.
My dad yelled that she was insane and that Vance's men would never let her leave alive.
Vance finally stepped out of the corner, drawing his suppressed pistol.
He looked highly amused by the sheer toxicity of our family dynamic.
Vance said he didn't care which one of them got the money, as long as he got his massive cut.
He pointed his gun at Daniel, ordering him to back away from the table.
Diane cocked the hammer of her revolver, the metallic click echoing loudly.
She threatened to shoot my dad in the chest if Vance pulled the trigger.
It was a complete, chaotic standoff of greed and betrayal.
I looked down at the forged deed, realizing it was the only thing keeping anyone from shooting.
I gripped the pen tightly and slowly dragged it across the paper.
I didn't sign my name.
Instead, I wrote a massive, sprawling message across the signature line.
I shoved the paper toward the center of the table.
My dad leaned forward to inspect the signature, his eyes widening in horror.
I had written, "Federal Agents are outside."
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Before anyone could react, the basement windows shattered inward simultaneously.
Blinding flashbang grenades rolled across the concrete floor.
