Chapter 4 - The House of Cards
"You can't do this!" Matthew screamed, struggling against Henderson’s grip, his polished facade entirely obliterated. "I built that company! You're ruining me!"
"You ruined yourself," I said.
I pushed myself up into a sitting position on the sofa, a paramedic supporting my shoulder. The pain in my back was a roaring fire, but my mind had never been clearer.
"You told me I wasn't a Sterling anymore, Matthew," I rasped, my voice gaining strength. "You thought because I loved you, because I built those pitch decks for you, because I kept your secrets, that I was weak. You forgot who taught me how to build an empire. And you forgot who can tear one down."
My father looked at Henderson. "Call the police. Tell the Commissioner I want an arrest warrant for domestic assault issued immediately. And send a team to the Hamptons property. If Lauren Thorne is there, inform her that the deed is being seized for corporate fraud, and she has ten minutes to vacate."
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Matthew sagged against the wall, sobbing openly now. The arrogant, composed man who had beaten me twenty times with a hickory cane was gone. In his place was a pathetic, broken shell of a man who was watching his entire life—his money, his company, his mistress, and his freedom—evaporate in real-time.
He was drowning, and there was no one left to throw him a line.
