Chapter 10 - The Price of Treason
"This is impossible," Flynn whispered, his body trembling as he slowly pushed himself out of the chair. He looked wildly between me, my father, and the two FBI agents standing by the door. "You... you drowned! The Coast Guard said—"
"Captain Ramirez of the Santa Maria picked me up three miles south of the passage, Flynn," I said, stopping three feet from the coffee table. "Two minutes after you turned the yacht around and went back inside to celebrate."
"Cassandra, sweetie!" Fiona cried out, taking a sudden step toward me with her arms outstretched, her face twisting into a terrifying, fake smile of relief. "Thank God! Oh, thank God you're safe! We were out of our minds with worry! Flynn was beside himself!"
"Touch me, Fiona," I said, my voice dropping into a register of cold, absolute venom, "and I will let Detective Reyes show you the recording I made from the crew pantry."
Fiona stopped dead in her tracks, her arms freezing in mid-air.
"What recording?" Aidan demanded, trying to step in front of his wife, though his hands were shaking violently at his sides. "This is insane! Detective, my daughter-in-law is clearly suffering from extreme trauma and disorientation from her ordeal—"
"I’m not disoriented, Aidan," I said calmly. I pulled my phone from my jacket pocket, tapped the screen, and placed it on the glass table between us.
The audio file began to play.
“Two pills every night,” Flynn’s smooth, clear voice echoed from the small speaker, crisp and undeniable. “I added extra to her soup today. By midnight, she’ll barely be able to open her eyes.”
“And the trust?” Aidan’s voice answered on the recording.
“She signed the power of attorney before the wedding,” Flynn replied on the tape, accompanied by his light, casual chuckle. “Once she’s declared lost at sea, the $300 million moves into my accounts.”
“And her parents?”
“They’re heading into the mountains next week. My guys will handle it. Brake failure. Bad weather. Tragic accident.”
The room was completely silent except for the horrifying clarity of their own voices playing back to them.
Detective Reyes stepped forward, his sympathetic demeanor completely gone, his hand resting on the holster at his hip. "Flynn Sterling, Aidan Sterling, Fiona Sterling. You are under arrest for attempted capital murder, conspiracy to commit murder for financial gain, and grand larceny."
"Wait!" Flynn shrieked, backing away toward the window as two FBI agents stepped into the room with handcuffs drawn. "Wait! It wasn't me! It was my father! Aidan planned the whole thing! He arranged the offshore pharmacy! He forced me to do it!"
"You cowardly little bastard!" Aidan roared, turning on his son and shoving Flynn hard against the glass wall. "You were the one who bought the scopolamine in Nassau! You came to me with the plan six months ago!"
"QUIET!" the FBI agent barked, grabbing Aidan by the arm and slamming him face-first onto the leather sofa, snapping the steel cuffs onto his wrists.
Fiona collapsed onto the floor, sobbing hysterically, kicking her legs as an officer pulled her arms behind her back. "I didn't do anything! I was just a guest on the boat! I didn't know!"
Flynn was pressed against the glass window, his arms yanked behind his spine, the cold metal cuffs snapping tight over his wrists.
He turned his head, looking at me over his shoulder. The handsome, arrogant face that had fooled me for two years was broken, bloody, and wet with tears of pure, pathetic terror.
"Cassandra... please," Flynn sobbed, his voice cracking like a child's. "Please... I love you! They forced me to do it! You know I love you! Don't do this to me!"
I walked over to him slowly.
I stopped six inches from his face, looking into those blue eyes that had once held my entire world.
I reached out with my hand—the hand whose thumb he had broken three nights ago—and gently touched the clean white bandage over his bloody cheek.
"One push, Flynn," I whispered softly into his ear, my breath warm against his skin. "Then I go home, keep my three hundred million, and finally live the life I want."
I stepped back.
The FBI agents dragged Flynn, Aidan, and Fiona out of the lounge, their frantic screaming and sobbing fading down the long, carpeted corridor until the terminal was completely silent once again.
My father walked over to me.
He didn't speak. He simply wrapped his broad arms around my shoulders, pulling me close against his chest, holding me as if he would never let go again.
May you like
I buried my face in his jacket, smelling his familiar scent of old paper and cigars, and let out a long, quiet breath.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the morning sun finally broke through the grey clouds over Miami, casting a warm, golden light across the endless ocean beyond.
