Chapter 13 - The Unraveling of Bethany
The next morning, Bethany's face was plastered across the local news channels. I watched the television in grim silence as she stood on the steps of the courthouse, dabbing her eyes with a designer tissue.
"My parents' actions have deeply traumatized our entire family," she told the swarm of reporters, her voice trembling with perfectly rehearsed emotion. "I am just as shocked and devastated as the rest of the community. I am cooperating fully with the authorities to ensure justice is served, and I pray for my estranged sibling, who has clearly suffered a mental break during this tragic ordeal."
I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter until my knuckles turned white. It was a masterclass in gaslighting. She was painting herself as the innocent victim, the tragic heroine left to pick up the pieces of a broken dynasty, while simultaneously laying the groundwork to have me declared mentally unfit. If she could prove I was unstable, she could gain full custody of Rosie and undisputed control of the trust.
It was exactly the kind of move my father would have been proud of.
I picked up my phone and dialed the detective. When he finally answered, his voice was laced with exhaustion. I told him about the wire transfers, the shell company, and Bethany's connection to Arthur.
He sighed heavily. "I hear you, and it's suspicious, but it's circumstantial. Your sister is currently the state's star witness against your parents. She's claimed they forced her to set up those shell companies. Unless you have hard, undeniable proof that she ordered the harassment, the DA won't touch her. She's too valuable to their case."
The line went dead, leaving me in a suffocating silence. The legal system wasn't going to save me from Bethany. She had played them just as expertly as she had played our parents.
If I wanted to protect Rosie, I needed the kind of leverage that could shatter Bethany's pristine public image and send her straight to a neighboring cell. I needed the truth, in ink and paper. And I knew exactly where to find it.
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Before my father’s paranoia had peaked, he kept a private, handwritten ledger of every bribe, every blackmail scheme, and every dirty transaction the family had ever engaged in. He called it his "insurance policy." If Bethany was taking over the empire, she would desperately need that ledger to keep the family's associates in line.
I just had to get to it before she did.
