Chapter 4 - Day 89: The Eve of ExecutionIt was the eighty-ninth night.
Outside my slate-gray guest room, the mansion was buzzing with frantic energy. Event planners, high-end caterers, and floral designers were rushing through the hallways, setting up ice sculptures, floral arches of white roses, and massive champagne towers in the main ballroom.
Richard stepped into my dark room at 10:00 PM, wearing a tuxedo fitting tape around his shoulders. He looked radiant, wealthy, and completely triumphant.
He set the cup of Thallium tea on my bedside table with a casual, dismissive clatter.
“Tomorrow is the day, Victoria,” Richard said, standing over my bed, looking down at me as if I were already a corpse under a sheet. “The doctors said you wouldn't make it past ninety days. And looking at you... I doubt you'll survive until sunrise.”
I let out a raspy, feeble cough, pulling the blanket higher up my neck. “Richard... please... don't do this... let me see my family lawyer...”
Richard let out a cold, cruel laugh, adjusting his gold cufflinks—cufflinks I had bought him for his thirty-fifth birthday.
“Your family lawyer, Samuel Sterling, has been barred from the property, Victoria,” Richard sneered. “I've already signed the DNR paperwork as your legal surrogate. When you stop breathing tonight, the private medical team I hired will handle everything quietly. There won't be an autopsy. Just a swift cremation.”
He leaned down, his breath cold against my ear.
“You gave me everything, Victoria,” he whispered maliciously. “Your money, your social status, your father’s empire. But you were always too controlling. Sienna knows how to make a man feel like a king. Tomorrow, when I pop the vintage Dom Pérignon to celebrate my official appointment as sole chairman, I’ll drink a glass in your memory.”
He straightened up, patted my pale cheek with a sickening condescension, and turned toward the door.
“Goodbye, Victoria. Try not to make a mess when you go.”
He closed the door, locking it from the outside with a sharp metallic click.
The moment the lock engaged, I sat up straight in bed. The raspy breath vanished. The trembling stopped.
I swung my legs over the side of the mattress, stood up on firm, healthy legs, and walked silently across the room to the ensuite mirror.
I turned on the bright vanity lights. My skin was flushed with healthy color, my eyes sharp and burning with absolute, lethal clarity.
I picked up my phone and dialed Samuel Sterling.
“Samuel,” I spoke into the receiver, my voice steady as steel. “Is the police detail secured?”
May you like
“District Attorney Vance and six LAPD detectives are standing by, Victoria,” Samuel confirmed over the line. “The board members have all accepted Richard’s invitation. Every major news outlet in Los Angeles has been anonymously tipped off about a 'massive corporate announcement' at the Bel Air estate tomorrow afternoon.”
“Good,” I said, looking at my reflection. “Tell Arthur to bring the dress.”
Related Stories
