Chapter 7 - The Interrogation Room
Genevieve sat in the bleak, concrete interrogation room of the FBI field office. Her bespoke satin dress was wrinkled, her perfect hair unraveled.
The heavy steel door swung open, and Victoria walked in alone. She carried no files, no lawyers. Just her terrifying presence.
"The feds gave me five minutes," Victoria said, sitting across from her daughter-in-law.
"I’ll tell them everything," Genevieve spat, tears of pure rage streaming down her face. "I know where the bodies are buried, Victoria. I know how you crushed the Sterling family. I know about the offshore accounts. I will burn your legacy to the ground."
"You will tell them nothing," Victoria said softly. She reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a single, stark white envelope. She slid it across the metal table.
Genevieve snatched it, tearing it open. Inside was a single photograph and a flight ticket.
The photograph was of an older woman, sitting in a wheelchair on a terrace in Tuscany.
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"Your mother is currently enjoying a lovely vacation at my private villa in Italy," Victoria whispered. "She is surrounded by my security. They are taking very good care of her."
Genevieve stopped breathing.
