Part 3
Margaret didn't sit.
She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing weakness.
Instead, she looked at the spilled liquid on the floor, her mind spinning, calculating her next move.
She knew the stakes.
If Daniel took that liquid to a lab, the game was over.
The high-dosage sedatives she had been secretly mixing into Ava’s daily tea would be identified.
The prescription names that didn't belong to Ava would be traced back to Margaret’s private physician.
“It’s her standard nerve medication, Daniel,” Margaret said, her tone softening into an offensive mimicry of patience.
“The doctor prescribed it to keep her calm. You know how volatile she gets when your business trips run long. She imagines things. She imagines people are against her.”
Ava shook her head violently, tears spilling over her bruised cheeks.
“No… no, Daniel, please,” Ava whispered, her voice barely a rasp.
“It makes the world go dark. Every time I drink it, I can’t move my legs. I can’t speak. She brings the papers when the room starts spinning.”
Daniel walked over to the desk.
He picked up the power of attorney form.
He looked at the signature line.
It was blank.
Then he looked at the date on the document.
It had been drafted the very morning he left for Chicago.
Margaret had planned this down to the exact hour.
She had waited until he was at thirty thousand feet in the air, unreachable, before moving in for the kill.
“You drafted this without my knowledge,” Daniel said, holding the paper up.
His hand was steady, but his eyes were blazing.
“This requires my signature as her legal guardian, Mother. Why is my name completely omitted from the document? Why is your name listed as the sole executor of Ava’s estate?”
Margaret didn't flinch.
She scoffed, adjusting the diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist.
“Because you are soft, Daniel. You love her, which makes you blind. Look at her. She is a liability to this family. The board is already questioning your stability because your wife can’t even attend a charity gala without having a panic attack. I did what a mother is supposed to do. I protected the legacy.”
“By poisoning my wife?” Daniel roared.
The explosion finally came.
The walls of the mahogany study seemed to vibrate with the force of his voice.
Rosa flinched, but she didn't run.
Ava hid her face in her hands, weeping quietly.
Margaret took a step back, her perfect composure finally fracturing around the edges.
“Do not use that word in this house,” she hissed.
“I am saving you from ruin! If the press finds out that the CEO of Vance Global is married to a certified lunatic, the stock will plummet by morning!”
“I don't give a damn about the stock,” Daniel said, walking directly up to her until he was looking down into her cold, calculating eyes.
“And you are going to leave this house. Tonight.”
Margaret laughed, an ugly, sharp sound that echoed off the high ceiling.
“Leave? This is my house, Daniel. My husband bought it. My name is on the deed. You cannot cast me out of my own home for trying to save you from a girl who came from nothing.”
Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
He didn't dial the police. Not yet.
He dialed a number he knew by heart.
“Arthur,” Daniel said into the phone, his eyes never leaving his mother’s face.
“I need you at the estate. Bring the chief of security. And bring a forensic medical team. Private. Now.”
May you like
Margaret’s face drained of color.
The diamond bracelet suddenly felt very heavy on her wrist.
