Chapter 12 - The Web of Deceit
Victoria’s hand remained locked like a steel vise on Evelyn’s trembling shoulder, keeping the elder woman pinned securely against the molding.
The corridor reeked of splintered wood, pulverized porcelain dust, and the metallic tang of pure adrenaline.
Evelyn breathed in shallow, shuddering gasps, her manicured fingers clawing at the burgundy fabric of Victoria’s sleeve.
"Let go of me, you insolent girl," Evelyn hissed, though the venom in her voice lacked any real bite now.
"You don't get to command anyone in this house ever again, Evelyn," Victoria replied without moving an inch.
Victoria looked down at the sixty-nine-year-old billionaire matriarch, seeing past the expensive cosmetics and velvet gown to the hollow predator beneath.
"Why did you do it?" Victoria demanded, her voice low and dangerous like rumbling thunder before a strike.
"You had wealth, power, a devoted son, and a brilliant granddaughter," Victoria stated, her brown eyes boring into Evelyn's soul.
"What could possibly drive you to bring poison into your own home?" Victoria asked with lethal precision.
Evelyn gave a weak, pathetic chuckle that turned into a raspy cough against her throat.
"You think this life is built on affection and soft words?" Evelyn spat back, lifting her chin with a pathetic semblance of pride.
"Julian is weak; he always was too soft to protect our dynasty from those circling like vultures," Evelyn snarled.
"The board was moving against us, Victoria; Julian was going to hand over our voting shares to an audit committee tonight," Evelyn confessed in a desperate rush of words.
Victoria’s brow furrowed in sudden, horrifying comprehension.
"The audit committee?" Victoria repeated, the realization hitting her like a freezing wave.
"Arthur Pendelton was attending tonight as the chief auditor," Victoria murmured, connecting the dark dots in the shadows of the mansion.
"He was sitting at the head table with us," Victoria whispered, her breath hitching in disbelief.
Evelyn’s eyes flashed with a flicker of unhinged triumph before fading back into terror.
"If Arthur died of sudden cardiac arrest before midnight, the corporate charter would remain permanently in my private control," Evelyn whispered, her voice dropping into a sickening confession.
"Nobody suspects a seventy-year-old grandmother when an overweight auditor collapses after dinner," Evelyn added with a trembling smirk.
Victoria felt a violent surge of disgust twist her stomach into knots.
"You cold-blooded monster," Victoria whispered, her grip tightening until Evelyn gasped in genuine pain.
"You were going to execute a man in the middle of our family celebration just to keep control of the shares?" Victoria asked.
"I did what had to be done to preserve our name!" Evelyn shrieked, squirming against the marble wall.
"And what about Chloe?" Victoria snapped, her voice rising with furious maternal indignation.
"You raised an industrial hammer against your own flesh and blood because she saw your filth!" Victoria shouted into the older woman's face.
Evelyn stopped squirming, her gaze dropping to the floor where the shattered portrait lay in shards.
"She had the phone," Evelyn muttered weakly, her tone turning into a defensive whine.
"She was going to show Julian, and Julian would have ruined everything," Evelyn stammered, shaking her head in denial.
"Julian is your son, and Chloe is your granddaughter!" Victoria yelled, her anger echoing down the empty hall.
"You chose corporate stock over the lives of your own family," Victoria said, shaking her head in pure contempt.
Down the long corridor, the distant applause from the ballroom swelled into an organized, rhythmic cadence.
The speech was ending.
The toast was about to be drunk.
Victoria realized with sickening horror that if Evelyn’s aim was Arthur Pendelton, any mistake in seating could prove fatal to someone else.
In high-society banquets, guests frequently swapped chairs or leaned across table settings to speak with colleagues.
If Julian or Chloe had sat down in that seat, or if Julian reached for the nearest glass to raise a tribute, the poison would claim the wrong throat.
"Who is sitting in Arthur's seat right now, Evelyn?" Victoria demanded, violently shaking the matriarch.
Evelyn’s eyes widened with sudden, genuine dread, the smug arrogance instantly evaporating from her weathered face.
"I... I don't know," Evelyn stammered, her voice suddenly trembling with authentic, uncontrolled panic.
"What do you mean you don't know?!" Victoria roared, her patience snapping entirely.
"The seating cards were rearranged before dinner began because Julian invited two additional investors," Evelyn cried out, tears finally spilling freely down her face.
"The glass was placed next to the center card, but the names were shifted!" Evelyn sobbed, covering her face with her hands.
Victoria felt the blood drain completely from her face.
The poisoned glass was sitting on the table, completely anonymous, waiting for whoever happened to be standing near the center piece.
"You foolish, murderous old woman," Victoria whispered, pushing Evelyn back toward the floor.
Victoria reached into her burgundy trouser pocket and pulled out her private security radio.
"Security detail, this is Victoria Vance," she commanded into the microphone with razor-sharp authority.
"Lock down the private corridor and detain Evelyn Vance immediately," Victoria ordered without looking back.
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Victoria didn't wait to hear the security officer's response.
She turned on her heel and sprinted down the corridor, the heavy sound of her boots echoing the frantic rhythm of her racing heart.
