Page 99 of Ugly Truths
William’s palm slams against the table, rattling the glassware. “What gives you the right to play God, Silas?” he spits, face turning a new shade of red as each second passes. “You condemn me, and yet here you are, deciding life and death. What makes you any different?”
“If you can’t see the difference,” I say with a shrug, “then there truly is no helping you.”
His body vibrates. “You think this will work?” he sputters, clinging to anything he can. “Someone will realize what you did. The timing is too coincidental. You think no one will question it?”
“Why would I kill you? It’s not as if any of your attempts to turn the board against me were successful. It would be insane for me to do something so horrific when I just have to wait until January.”
The corners of his mouth skew into a disgusted frown.
“But you’re right,” I agree, bobbing my head. “It would be hard to hide something like this if I weren’t prepared for it.”
William’s face pales.
There’s nothing but pure amusement in my words now. “You were just telling me a few weeks ago that my ego would be my downfall, but I’m not the one who missed what has been planned right under his nose.”
His breathing quickens.
“You didn’t think twice about Natalie picking you up from the office and leaving your own security behind because you’d be with your daughter and her team. You assumed, as always, you were untouchable.”
The fingers splayed on the table curl into a fist.
“That’s why we chose this restaurant,” I continue, gesturing lightly to the room around us. “No cameras. No documented reservations. Nothing to connect this meeting to anything or anyone.
“How convenient that Cillian happened to be in the area to give you a ride. When you leave, I’ll return home to finish my workday. Leslie already has your team busy with some minor tasks that will delay them from checking in with you.” My lips curl up. “Natalie has already informed several people that you cut your lunch short because you weren’t feeling well. A headache, wasn’t it? How nice of Cillian to offer you a ride since he was in the area.”
His eyes dart from my face to the doors.
“Meanwhile,” I add, my tone lightening, almost conversational, “my team has infiltrated your home security systems. Your staff is already receiving messages, directly fromyour account, instructing them to leave early so you can rest. The house will be empty. Just you, Cillian, and Cora. And what a pity that your home security systems have been malfunctioning on and off for the past week, so the footage will be sadly corrupted after capturing Cillian's SUV leaving the property.”
Reaching across the table, I begin to collect the paperwork Natalie left behind, tapping the edges against the table to line them up neatly. “You see,Dad, I’ve thought of everything. By the end of today, you’ll be dead, and the world will be better for it.”
With almost too much care, I place the papers down in front of me. “You’re lucky Mom isn’t here to see this.” My voice doesn’t even sound like my own. “What you’ve done would have killed her all over again.”
For a moment, the only sound is his panting. Then there’s a quiet knock at the door. It opens, and Cillian and Cora step inside. The restaurant staff member slips out as quickly as they let the pair in, leaving the room sealed once more.
I rise slowly, buttoning the front of my suit jacket. Cora comes to the edge of the table, brushing past my father to collect the documents he was holding earlier.
For the first time, he looks small. Powerless.
Leaning in close, I drop my voice low enough that only he can hear. “You always told me to be ruthless. To never leave anything to chance. So really,thisis your legacy. Congratulations.”
His lips part, but no sound escapes.
For the first and last time in my life, the great William Wells was left speechless.
Straightening, I turn on my heel and walk toward the door. I don’t look back. I don’t need to. Thesoftclickof the door closing behind me is enough.
Chapter 39
Elena
It’s 9:42, and I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the television mounted on the wall. The headline scrolls across the bottom of the screen in bold, bright letters, illuminating the dimly lit room.
As the hours slipped by after their scheduled lunch with no word, a small, desperate hope crept in. Maybe William felt the weight of his actions and his children’s disgust. Maybe he wanted to fix things and that’s why no one called. Maybe Silas and Natalie didn’t have to cross that line.
The message I’m staring at shatters any of those naive fantasies.
CEO AND PHILANTHROPIST WILLIAM WELLS FOUND DEAD IN HOME FROM APPARENT HEART ATTACK
