Chapter 4 - The Mistress and the MastermindDetective Sterling pulled a second file from his briefcase, opening a series of financial spreadsheets and legal documents.
“Derek wasn't acting alone, and this didn't start three weeks ago,” Sterling revealed. “Three years ago, your father’s estate was placed into a private testamentary trust valued at twelve million dollars, set to release full control to you upon the birth of your first living child.”
I stared at him in shock. “Twelve million? My father told me the estate was worth two million!”
“Your father was a cautious man,” Sterling explained. “He knew Derek was ambitious and reckless. He intentionally hid the true scale of the trust in an offshore corporate account in Delaware, managed by a neutral bank trustee. Derek only discovered the true twelve-million-dollar figure four months ago when he accidentally intercepted a legal notice sent to your home.”
The pieces of the terrifying puzzle began falling into place with sickening speed.
“If I died before giving birth,” I whispered, realization dawning on me, “the trust rules stated the entire estate would revert to Derek as the surviving spouse.”
“Exactly,” Sterling nodded. “And if you had a child, the trust would be locked under a court-appointed child guardian until the baby turned twenty-one.”
Sterling slid a photograph across the table. It showed Chloe Montgomery—a sleek, glamorous blonde woman in her early thirties—stepping out of a high-end luxury vehicle in downtown Chicago.
“Chloe Montgomery isn't just Derek’s mistress,” Sterling said coldly. “She is the daughter of Arthur Montgomery, the former corporate attorney who drafted your father’s original will. Chloe supplied Derek with the confidential trust documents. She was the one who convinced Beatrice that burning your skin would leave scar tissue that could be argued in court as 'self-inflicted harm from postpartum depression.'”
A cold fury began to burn deep inside my chest—a spark of righteous rage replacing the terror that had consumed me for months.
They hadn't just tried to murder me and my child for a house and a two-million-dollar insurance policy. They had spent months plotting a cold-blooded heist to steal my father’s entire legacy.
“Where is Chloe now?” I asked, my voice growing steady and firm for the first time.
“She’s currently trying to liquidate her personal accounts to fly to South America,” Sterling smiled grimly. “Her passport was flagged an hour ago. But we need your official statement to secure the federal arrest warrant for corporate conspiracy.”
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I pushed myself up against the hospital pillows, ignoring the burning pain in my abdomen.
“Give me the paper, Detective,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “I’m going to write down every single word.”
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