Chapter 23
COLTON
I didn’t hold back, firing one scathing remark after another.
“Tell your precious husband how you scammed him,” I said, my words scoring deep as William’s posture caved in on itself.
“Tell your husband how you target the families you plan to destroy,” I said, lapping up their desperation, thirsting for more.
“Tell your husband how you used my mother to get to him—”
“Stop,” William croaked, his voice guttural and hoarse. He was holding onto his chest as if he were in pain. Good.
“Why would I give you a luxury you never awarded me? No, William. No more running. It’s time you faced everything you created.”
Nikita’s fingernails dug deep into his forearm—her last chance, the one remaining reprieve that she could latch onto. “Don’t listen to him, Will. He’s just trying to tear us apart—”
“Are those the same lies you said to the other fools you swindled?” I asked.
Nikita’s face burned ruby red, her patience about to snap, when a hard thump reverberated from the table. Thomas had dropped a thick folder on the hard surface.
“All the information is there, Mr Richards,” Thomas said, gesturing to the thick, weighted manuscript. “We’ve had four years to gather as much evidence as possible. Our findings are not unfounded, as proven by what’s here.”
The room became mute as William’s shaking hand tentatively reached out. Nikita snapped. “If you choose to open that file and believe them over me, we’re over.”
William turned to her then, focusing all his attention on trying to deconstruct the woman before him.
She hadn’t given him a promise, but a threat, which was her downfall.
“Did we ever begin?” William asked. She averted her gaze, which was the answer in itself.
He opened the folder. And I pushed my questioning.
“Where is my money, whore?”
Nikita stood then, attempting to level the playing field. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
I cocked my head in challenge. “If you don’t answer me appropriately, I will make it my personal mission to ruin your daughter’s future. After all the proof I’ve sent Noah, I doubt he or his bank account will be around to save her anymore.”
Nikita was trembling, her lip curled. “What the fuck—”
I tutted. “Oh, and she can kiss her college degree goodbye, too. Sleeping with half the faculty and blackmailing them isn’t a good look, I’m afraid.”
“Jennifer?” William asked, his voice tinged in guilt. I nearly rolled my damn eyes.
“Save the self-righteousness, William. You really are a stupid son of a bitch. Nikita has been training her mini-me to be just like her mama. What? You thought Jennifer truly loved Noah? More like she loved his fortune and social standing.”
“I won’t admit to anything,” Nikita said, all false bravado.
“Selfish to the last. I can’t say I’m surprised, though we have enough evidence to bury you anyway.
Scheming $4.5 million dollars from grieving families is a shitty thing to do.
Not to mention fraud and theft, which are both illegal.
You’ll be going away for a long time. Forever, if I have anything to do with it. ”
Her face blanched. Oh, she’s scared now.
“That isn’t a life sentence.”
“As I’ve said before. You can do whatever you want when you’re filthy fucking rich. Money is power, and no thanks to you, I have that in abundance.” I pivoted for the door, banging my fist against the metal frame.
“You can’t do this!” she yelled, on the verge of shattering.
And being the opportunist I was, I decided to push her over the edge. “Any last words, Nikita?” I sneered.
The transformation was beautiful to behold, as if her outer casing fell away to show the true evil beneath.
All sense evaporated as Nikita snapped and flew for me, her sharp talons aiming for my throat. She didn’t get far, William holding her back, struggling to keep her contained as utter hopelessness permeated from him.
He was completely destroyed, his face a teary mess as he held his wife back from attacking his son.
I gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Let her go, Dad. Why bother protecting me now? It’s too late—"
“The money is gone! It’s not my fault your mother was stupid enough to trust me!
” Nikita shrieked, continuing to struggle, beady killer eyes drilled on me.
“It’s not my fault your father was so desperate from loneliness that he sought comfort in me.
It was easy, so fucking easy, to take everything away from you.
” She finished by spitting in my face, the disgusting glob landing on my cheek.
I tsked, slowly wiping her venomous spit from my skin. “Touché, bitch. But in all your years of evil planning, you made one drastic miscalculation. Me.”
I advanced and ran my contaminated palm through her hair before I yanked that bitch’s head backwards. That’s when chaos broke out, cops raiding the room to collect the unhinged inmate from a sobbing William.
It took three of them to subdue Nikita and drag her out the door, their absence leaving a heavy stillness behind.
All that could be heard was the heaving breaths from William, who was kneeling on the floor, his head bowed in submission.
Oh no, I’m not finished with you yet. “Get up,” I said, unkind and unapologetic.
He listened, taking his time reclaiming his seat. Thomas hadn’t moved, unshaken by the change of events.
“I didn’t know, Colt. I swear. I’ll pay you back. You’ll receive every last cent of your trust fund. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll make everything better.”
“Yes. Yes, you will,” I said, taking the documents that sat in Thomas’ open briefcase and laid them in front of my father.
Were his words empty, desperately spoken by a broken man? Or had he given a promise he intended to keep? It was time to test that theory.
He skimmed through the papers, his hands and gaze stalling every now and again.
I could sense his hesitation, and I didn’t blame him.
I was essentially asking him to sign over my childhood home and the mechanic business he had built up for over twenty years.
Everything of value that was still in his name, I wanted—deserved—them for myself.
William had fallen quiet, his instincts rebelling against the contract, which had me crouching down beside him.
“Did you mean it?” I asked, placating and damn near gentle. “That you would make everything better? Or did Nikita warp your brain so much that you don’t know what basic decency means anymore?”
He was shaking his head, salty droplets flying in all directions.
“You know,” I whispered, as if sharing a cherished secret.
“I could have buried you too. Technically, it was your signature on those documents. If I wanted to, you could have been charged instead of her. But I saved you out of the kindness of my heart. Don’t you think you owe me, or do you not care for me at all? ”
I slipped a pen from my pocket and offered it to him. A long second passed before William accepted, then signed and initialled each relevant page.
As soon as he was done, Thomas gathered the document, closed his briefcase and stood, wiping at the non-existent dust on his suit jacket.
“Ready, Mr Tems?”
“Ready,” I said, appreciating his check-in.
We are done here.
Without another word, we turned for the door.
I thought I’d feel vindicated. Instead, there was an endless upset, an infinite anger that only grew the more I looked at him. William.
How dare he appear hurt. How dare he act like the betrayed when he has been the perpetrator for so many years.
As I reached the exit, he called from behind. “Son, can we—”
“I told you before. I’m not your son.”
I heard him stand, which made me shift so I didn’t have my back to him.
William gulped, his features all depressed, sadness his permanent shadow. “Colton, I’m sorry for everything. I have wronged you in so many ways that I don’t know where to begin. But you’re right. Maybe I should start with honesty. Son… I’m sick.”
From the way he said it, I knew the type of sick he was implying, yet his statement didn’t have the effect he was looking for. He expected a reaction—anything—but he had failed to realise that I wasn’t the same person I used to be.
I was a stone-cold shell, sympathy and empathy only reserved for a select few. And he was not one of them.
William crumbled then, the full realisation finally sinking in. His fingers dug into his sternum, his face shattered in pain as a long groan escaped his lips. “I-I think I’m—call an ambulance, Colt. My chest hurts—”
He slumped back into his chair, his fearful eyes searching mine, only to find an impenetrable wall.
I allowed him to see my resolve, to see the truth as it was.
I didn’t care. I just didn’t care.
With little effort, I turned my back and walked out.