She couldn’t tell whether it was pain, rage, or warning.
“My father trusted you,” Charlotte whispered to Vanessa.
Vanessa’s smile sharpened.
“Your father was old, sentimental, and easy to manage.”
Ethan pulled out a gold pen and forced it into Charlotte’s hand.
“Sign. Or tomorrow you wake up sedated in a private clinic outside the city. Dr. Whitman has already signed the paperwork. According to the file, you threatened to hurt yourself.”
Charlotte lowered her eyes.
A message appeared on her smartwatch.
It was from Grant, her head of security.
Ma’am… everyone downstairs is watching. The entire room is silent. What are your orders?
Charlotte barely lifted her gaze toward the diamond on her necklace.
And then she understood.
The trap she had set for Ethan had turned into something much bigger.
She could have screamed.
She could have ordered Grant to break down the door immediately.
She could have stopped the humiliation.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she slowly sank against the door as if her legs could no longer hold her. She placed both hands over her belly and let real tears fall down her face.
“Please don’t lock me away,” she whispered. “Please don’t take my babies from me.”
Ethan smiled.
He thought she had broken.
“That’s better,” he said. “Obedient.”
Downstairs, every screen showed Charlotte’s pale face in close-up.
No one ate.
No one spoke.
Even the live band stood frozen, instruments hanging uselessly in their hands.
The family attorney.
A district prosecutor.
Several board members.
All of them watched in complete silence.
But upstairs, Ethan still believed he was in control.
“Once you sign, Vanessa and I will announce that you’re stepping away temporarily for health reasons,” he said. “I’ll assume the chairmanship of the company. She’ll manage the estate. The twins will remain under my custody until you recover.”
Vanessa laughed.
“And if you never recover? What a convenient tragedy.”
Charlotte pressed her fingers against her belly.
“Was my father’s death convenient too?”
The room changed instantly.
Ethan shot Vanessa a warning look.
“Don’t talk about that.”
But Vanessa was too confident now.
“Your father didn’t die from grief, Charlotte,” she said sweetly. “He started asking questions. He found transfers. He spoke to lawyers. He wanted to change the will. What did you expect us to do? Let that old man destroy years of work?”
The floor seemed to tilt beneath Charlotte.
Her father, Richard Bennett, had supposedly died of a heart attack six months earlier.
Now she was hearing something far worse.
“What did you do to him?” she asked, barely breathing.
Ethan snatched the pen from her and grabbed her arm.
“Enough to make it look natural.”
Downstairs, someone screamed.
Upstairs, Ethan didn’t understand why.
Vanessa did. Her smile flickered.
“What was that?”
Ethan frowned.
The music downstairs stopped abruptly.
A massive silence settled over the house.
Charlotte felt the weight of hundreds of people holding their breath below her feet.
Another message appeared on her watch.
The prosecutor is here. Police are on the way. Keep them talking for thirty more seconds.
Charlotte lifted her face.
