Chapter 8 - Michael Tries To Buy My Silence With Cash
My phone buzzed continuously inside my purse as I walked out of the towering skyscraper onto Fifth Avenue.
It was Michael calling from his private cell phone, his number flashing aggressively across the screen.
I swiped to answer, holding the phone firmly against my ear without saying a single word.
“Clara, where are you? Mom is frantic, and we need to talk about this like mature adults,” Michael pleaded.
“There is nothing left to discuss, Michael,” I replied calmly, my voice steady and devoid of emotion.
“Look, I know you’re upset about the property transfer, but I can wire five hundred thousand dollars to your private account today.”
“Five hundred thousand?” I let out a cold, humorless laugh that echoed down the crowded sidewalk.
“You stole sixty million dollars of my family’s generational wealth, Michael. Keep your pocket change.”
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“Don't be foolish, Clara! You can't fight my mother’s legal team; they own half the judges in this city!”
“We’ll see about that when the federal marshals arrive at your office this afternoon,” I snapped, hanging up.
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