Chapter 7 - The Lion's Den
Arthur looked incredibly calm, a smug smile plastered across his face.
"You really are a stubborn old man, Charles," he said smoothly.
Elena stepped out from behind him, her eyes glittering with malice.
"I told you the tracker on the flash drive would lead him straight to my office," she laughed.
I tightened my grip on the small glass vial in my hand.
"You poisoned your own daughter," I growled at Arthur.
"April is dying because of you."
Arthur shrugged, completely devoid of any paternal guilt.
"They were always just collateral damage," he replied coldly.
"Once they were out of the picture, I would inherit the entire trust fund."
"And Elena and I could finally start our new life with Rose's fortune."
I realized I couldn't fight my way out of this room against a gun.
But I had something they didn't know about.
Before I entered the building, I had dialed 911 on my cell phone and slipped it into my breast pocket.
The emergency dispatcher was listening to every single word they said.
I just needed to keep them talking to ensure the confession was recorded perfectly.
"How did you do it?" I asked, trying to sound defeated.
"How did you poison Rose without the doctors finding out?"
Elena smiled proudly, eager to boast about her twisted genius.
"I slipped micro-doses into her daily vitamin capsules," she confessed.
"It mimics the symptoms of a rare autoimmune disease."
"By the time the doctors realized her organs were failing, it was already too late."
Arthur raised his gun and pointed it directly at my head.
"Enough talking," he ordered.
"Put the vial back in the safe, Charles, and maybe I'll make your death quick."
I pretended to comply, slowly leaning toward the open steel safe.
But instead of dropping the vial, I grabbed a heavy glass paperweight from the desk.
I hurled it directly at the floor-to-ceiling window behind Arthur.
The glass shattered into a million pieces, triggering the building’s blaring alarm system.
Arthur fired a shot in panic, but his aim was wild.
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The bullet grazed my shoulder, tearing through my coat and searing my skin.
I threw myself through the broken window, falling onto the canvas awning on the floor below.
