Chapter 4 - The Sins of the Father
I gripping the phone tightly, my knuckles turning completely white.
I asked Victor what he was doing to my father.
Victor chuckled, a dark and humorless sound that vibrated through the speaker.
He told me that my father had just used his old spare key to walk right into my former living room.
He explained that my dad was currently tied to one of my expensive dining chairs with heavy duct tape.
I felt a sudden rush of complicated emotions, but guilt was absolutely not one of them.
I demanded to know why Victor had been hunting my father for twenty long years.
Victor went silent for a moment, letting the heavy tension build.
He finally revealed that two decades ago, he and my father had been partners in a highly illegal underground gambling ring.
My father had secretly stolen three million dollars from the syndicate's main vault.
Worse than the theft, my dad had planted fake evidence to frame Victor for the massive robbery.
Victor had spent fifteen brutal years in a maximum-security prison for a crime my father committed.
My dad had used that stolen money to buy his way into a comfortable, suburban life while Victor rotted in a cell.
I felt completely sick to my stomach, realizing my entire childhood was funded by stolen blood money.
Victor coldly stated that it was finally time for my father to pay his massive debt with interest.
I told Victor that he could have my father, but he needed to spare my pregnant sister.
Victor laughed again, this time with genuine, twisted amusement.
He informed me that my sister and her husband were currently gagged and bound on the kitchen floor right next to my dad.
Victor warned me that he was going to burn the entire house down with all three of them inside.
I knew I hated my family for what they did to me, but I was a lawyer who respected the absolute rule of law.
I could not let three people be brutally murdered on a property that was just legally tied to my name.
I told Victor to wait for exactly one hour before he did anything permanent.
I threw on my coat, grabbed my car keys, and sprinted out of my penthouse.
I sped toward the lake house, breaking every single traffic law in the city.
When I finally turned onto my old street, I slammed on my brakes in pure shock.
Three local police cruisers were parked directly in my driveway with their lights flashing.
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I let out a sigh of relief, thinking a neighbor had heard the screaming and called the cops.
But as I crept closer, I saw the police officers laughing and shaking hands with Victor on the front porch.
