Chapter 11 - Sterling Plans the Ultimate Betrayal
Downstairs in the ground-floor billiard room, Sterling Kane swirled amber whiskey in a crystal glass while staring into the crackling fireplace.
Across from him sat Dr. Alan Whitfield, looking visibly shaken as he tapped his fingers against the mahogany table edge.
“The girl is keeping records, Sterling; I saw the way she watched me adjust the infusion pump during my afternoon checkup,” Whitfield hissed nervously.
“She’s a homeless nobody from the Lakeside Grill; let her write whatever fairy tales she wants before the final asset transfer clears,” Sterling dismissed lazily.
“If she figures out what we’re giving him to keep him under, the federal prosecutors will have our heads on spikes by next month!” Whitfield yelled.
Sterling took a slow sip of his whiskey, his eyes turning as cold and dead as the winter landscape outside the reinforced windows.
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“Then we accelerate the final corporate restructuring vote for Friday morning, and once the documents are signed, we eliminate the loose ends,” Sterling promised.
Neither man realized that the intercom speaker in the corner of the billiard room had been left half-active by the careless housekeeping staff.
