Chapter 11 - THE FOUNDER'S RING
“Don't touch him!” Adrian roared, stepping between Victor and Noah.
Victor stopped, his face hardening. “Do not test me, Adrian. I built the empire you sit on. I can crush you with a single phone call. I can freeze every asset you own. Hand over the boy, or you walk away from tonight with absolutely nothing.”
Adrian didn't flinch. For the first time all night, he looked completely serene. He looked at his father with absolute disgust.
“Take it,” Adrian said.
Victor blinked, confused.
“Take the hotels. Take the money. Freeze the accounts,” Adrian said, his voice echoing in the quiet night. “I don't care. I built this company into a global empire, but none of it is worth a single hair on my son’s head. You think money is leverage? I would burn it all down before I let you take him.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed. “You are a sentimental fool. You always were. Agents, take the boy.”
The three men in suits stepped forward.
“Wait!” I yelled.
I stepped in front of Adrian, holding my hand up.
Victor scoffed. “What are you going to do, woman? Hit me with your purse?”
I ignored him. I looked at the heavy gold ring on Victor’s right hand. It was a custom signet ring, stamped with the Cole family crest. The same crest that was engraved on the music box.
I reached into my apron pocket. When I had gathered the papers from the fax machine in the study, I had also grabbed Clara’s small leather notebook—the one I had found hidden inside the coat earlier.
“Clara didn't just find the land deeds twenty years ago,” I said, my voice ringing out clearly. “She found the offshore accounts. The ones you faked your death to hide from.”
Victor froze.
“She knew you were alive,” I continued, opening the small leather notebook. “She tracked the digitalis Sabrina bought directly to a shell company in Switzerland. Your shell company. You didn't just fund Sabrina. You supplied the poison that killed your daughter-in-law.”
Victor’s calm facade shattered. “Lies. You have no proof.”
“Don't I?” I asked.
I turned to the Police Captain. “Captain, the documents I faxed to the DA included the banking routes for the shell company. They perfectly match the federal tax evasion case against Victor Cole from ten years ago.”
The FBI agents standing behind Victor suddenly looked at each other, their expressions shifting from stoic to deeply uncomfortable. They might have been bought, but they weren't going to go down for aiding a domestic terrorist and murderer.
“Clara hid the rosary in the music box to point us to you,” I said. “And she hid the proof on the digital drive. Sabrina didn't kill her because of the land. Sabrina killed her because Clara was going to expose that you were still alive.”
Victor gripped his cane tightly, his knuckles white. He looked at Adrian, his eyes burning with pure malice.
“You think a notebook will hold up in court?” Victor spat.
“Maybe not,” Adrian said calmly. “But the federal regulators have been looking for you for a decade. The DA has your location. The press has the story. You stepped into the light tonight, old man. And it’s going to burn you.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. Not police sirens. Federal sirens. Black SUVs were tearing up the winding driveway of the estate.
The FBI agents behind Victor stepped back, distancing themselves from him.
Victor looked at the approaching vehicles, then at Adrian, and finally at Noah.
He raised his cane, his face twisted in fury. “I will destroy you for this!”
Before he could swing it, Adrian stepped forward and grabbed Victor by the collar of his expensive coat. He didn't hit him. He simply leaned in close.
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“You already tried,” Adrian whispered. “And you failed. Now, get off my lawn.”
Adrian threw Victor backward. The old man stumbled, falling onto the grass just as the federal vehicles slammed to a halt and heavily armed agents poured out, surrounding the helicopter.
