Chapter 5 - The Fracturing
By 10:00 AM, the Sterling family’s polished suburban world was disintegrating in real time.
I sat in a private waiting room at Vanderbilt Medical Center, holding a fresh cup of coffee. Oliver was sitting up in bed, eating a bowl of warm oatmeal. The swelling around his eye had begun to go down, though the deep purple bruise remained.
My phone rang. It was Laura.
I answered it on the second ring. "Yes, Laura?"
"Ethan!" she sobbed into the phone. Her voice was pure hysteria. "Where are you?! What is happening?!"
"I’m with our son at the hospital," I said calmly. "Where are you?"
"I’m at Dad’s house!" she cried. "It’s a nightmare here! Federal agents just raided Dad’s office downtown! They’re seizing files! And... and the news is reporting that Sterling Development is under investigation for cartel money laundering!"
"Is that so?" I remarked dryly.
"Dad is losing his mind!" she screamed over the phone. "He’s yelling at Dean and Paul, accusing them of stealing money! Dean just packed his bags and left! He said Dad is going to drag us all to prison!"
I listened to the background noise over the phone line. I could hear Arthur screaming in the distance, smashing glassware against the walls of his mansion.
"Laura," I said softly, cutting through her hysteria. "Did you ask your father why he pushed Oliver’s face into the concrete?"
A sudden, sharp silence fell over her end of the line.
"Laura?" I repeated.
"Dad... Dad said it was an accident..." she stammered, though her voice sounded hollow, broken.
"It wasn't an accident, Laura," I said. "And you know it. You’ve known for years who your father really is. You were just too afraid of losing his money to face the truth."
"Ethan, please come home," she pleaded, weeping softly. "Dad says... Dad says he thinks you’re behind this. He said you called him this morning. He said you sounded... different."
"I am different, Laura," I said. "I’m the man who protects my son. Something you failed to do."
"Ethan—"
"I’m hanging up now," I said. "I have work to do."
I ended the call, turned to Oliver, and smiled softly. "How’s the oatmeal, buddy?"
"It’s okay," Oliver murmured. "Dad?"
"Yeah, Oliver?"
"Are we going back to Grandpa’s house?"
I walked over to his bed, sat on the edge, and took his small hand in mine.
"No, Oliver," I said, looking into his eyes. "Grandpa’s house isn't going to be there much longer."
My phone chimed with a text from Kovacs:
Kovacs: Target 2 (Dean Sterling) just left the estate in his Porsche. Heading south on I-65. Carrying a duffel bag.
I stood up, kissed Oliver on the forehead, and looked at Marcus, who was standing inside the doorway dressed in a sharp suit.
"Keep him safe, Marcus," I said.
"Nobody gets past me, boss," Marcus replied, patting the concealed holstered sidearm beneath his jacket.
May you like
I walked out of the hospital, pulled on my leather jacket, and headed toward my truck.
It was time to deal with Uncle Dean.
