Chapter 6 - The Mastermind
Christopher rushed into the kitchen, his face draining of all color when he saw the syndicate enforcer holding a gun.
Elena followed closely behind him, clutching her expensive pearl necklace in sheer panic.
"Mom, what are you doing?" Christopher yelled, stepping in front of his secret blonde wife.
Beatrice laughed again, a harsh, grating sound that echoed off the marble countertops.
"I am not your mother, Christopher," the older woman stated with absolutely no emotion.
The entire room fell into a stunned, paralyzing silence.
Christopher stared at her, completely unable to process the horrifying words that just left her mouth.
"What are you talking about?" he stammered, taking a cautious step backward.
"I am a professional broker for the syndicate," Beatrice revealed smoothly.
She looked at the enforcer, giving him a brief, respectful nod of acknowledgement.
"I was hired twenty years ago to monitor you because your real father stole millions from the organization."
My mind spun violently as the elaborate web of deception finally unraveled in front of me.
Beatrice had played the role of a needy, dependent mother perfectly for two decades.
She engineered every single financial crisis in Christopher's life to keep him desperate and easily controlled.
She was the one who actually hacked my corporate accounts and framed me.
She used Christopher’s greed as the perfect smokescreen for her own massive heist.
"You manipulated him into marrying me just to gain access to my company," I realized with absolute horror.
"Exactly, Savannah," Beatrice smiled, adjusting her designer jacket perfectly.
"And now that the money is secure in an offshore account, I no longer need any of you."
Beatrice pulled a small, sleek detonator from her pocket.
"I lined the gas pipes in the basement with military-grade explosives this morning," she announced casually.
Elena screamed in pure terror, turning to run back toward the front door.
Beatrice immediately pressed the red button on the remote.
Nothing happened.
The house remained perfectly quiet.
Beatrice frowned, frantically pressing the button three more times with increasing panic.
The syndicate enforcer chuckled darkly and lowered his weapon.
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"Did you honestly think the boss wouldn't send a cleanup crew to disarm your little trap, Beatrice?" he mocked.
Before Beatrice could even react, the heavy oak front door of my house was violently kicked open.
