Chapter 8 - The ConfrontationThe handcuffs were cold against my wrists as the security guards dragged me down the back stairs of the estate. Ethan was being held back by two large men, his eyes wild with desperation as he struggled against their grip, trying to sign to me, but they held his arms tight.
They threw me into a private holding room in the basement of the estate, locking the heavy steel door.
I sat on the cold floor, tears of anger and frustration spilling over my cheeks. I had failed. I had let Christopher win, and now my brother was in danger, and Ethan was going to lose everything.
Hours ticked by. The music from the gala upstairs slowly faded, replaced by the quiet of the late-night estate.
Suddenly, I heard a quiet click at the door.
The heavy steel door swung open.
I braced myself, expecting Christopher or the police. But instead, standing there was Mrs. Albright, the elderly board member, holding a ring of keys. Beside her was the bodyguard who had driven me to Ethan’s car on that first day.
“Get up, child,” Mrs. Albright said, her voice sharp and commanding. “We don't have much time.”
“Mrs. Albright?” I gasped, rubbing my wrists as she unlocked the handcuffs. “What are you doing?”
“Eleanor Hale was my dearest friend,” Mrs. Albright said, her eyes flashing with a quiet fury. “I always suspected Christopher had a hand in her sudden illness, and I knew he was suppressing Ethan. But I needed proof. When Ethan contacted me yesterday through his private server and showed me the encryption logs of his father’s illegal offshore accounts, I knew it was time to act. We let Christopher walk into this trap.”
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She pulled a thick, official-looking document from her coat.
“This is the original will. Eleanor gave me a copy for safekeeping five years ago, to be opened only if Ethan’s rights were threatened. We have the proof, Mary. Now, let’s go finish this.”
