Chapter 6 - Betrayal of Blood
"Matthew," Uncle Richard said, stopping dead in his tracks. His silver hair was neatly slicked back, his designer suit flawless, but his eyes were wide with shock. "What are you doing here? Cassandra said you were out of town until Friday."
"The business trip ended early, Uncle," I said, standing at the top of the stairs, keeping my hand hidden inside my jacket pocket. "Just in time to stop my wife from executing Mom with animal tranquilizers."
Richard’s face paled, but Julian stepped forward, his young, handsome face contorting into a sneer. He reached inside his coat.
"Don't do it, Julian," I warned, pulling Cassandra’s silver pistol and aiming it directly at his chest. "I’ve spent twelve years auditing crime scenes and dealing with armed corporate fixers. I will put a bullet in your knee before you clear your holster."
Julian paused, his hand staying inside his jacket.
"Richard, explain this," I said, turning my gaze to my uncle. "Cassandra just told me everything. The offshore accounts, the forged psychiatric reports... my father’s death."
Richard let out a long, exhausted sigh. He seemed to age ten years right before my eyes. He reached into his coat—slowly, showing his empty palm first—and pulled out a silver handkerchief to wipe his brow.
"Your father was a foolish romantic, Matthew," Richard said, his voice dropping into a flat, cold tone. "He wanted to preserve eighty thousand acres of prime commercial real estate for 'environmental protection.' He was sitting on a fortune that could have saved our family’s holdings from bankruptcy twenty years ago!"
"So you killed him?" I whispered, a wave of nausea washing over me.
"I didn't kill him!" Richard snapped, his eyes flashing with sudden defensiveness. "His heart was weak! I simply... neglected to give him his nitroglycerin pills during his attack in this very house. Nature did the work for us."
"You monster," I breathed.
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"We needed the land, Matthew!" Richard shouted, taking a step up the stairs. "And your mother was the sole trustee after his death. She refused to sign the development rights over to me. She kept talking about 'protecting your father’s memory.' So Julian found Cassandra. She was perfect—beautiful, manipulative, desperate for money. We placed her in your path at that charity gala two years ago. Every move, every interaction was designed to put our hand on the pen that owned the estate!"
"And now the pen is broken," I said, pulling my phone from my pocket with my left hand and tapping the screen. "And the entire conversation has been broadcast live to the State Police dispatch center."
