Chapter 12 - A Mother's Vengeance
The seedy extended-stay motel near the interstate was a far cry from the marble floors and crystal chandeliers Victoria had ruled for three decades. The carpet smelled of stale cigarette smoke, and the neon vacancy sign hummed like an angry hornet outside the window.
Julian sat on the edge of the sagging mattress, staring at his blank phone screen. ""Everyone blocked me, Mom. Carter, Liam, even Uncle Richard. Nobody is answering my calls. The fraternity dropped my pledge status this afternoon.""
Victoria stood by the kitchenette counter, pouring cheap vodka into a plastic cup. Her hands shook violently, her eyes sunken and dark. ""Fools. All of them. Parasites who bowed to my money and scattered like roaches the moment Adrian pulled his cheap trick.""
""It wasn't a cheap trick, Mom!"" Julian shouted, cracking under the pressure. ""The judge read the will! It had Dad's real signature! We lost everything because you couldn't stop picking on Clara!""
A sharp slap cracked across Julian’s cheek. The young man fell back onto the pillows, clutching his stinging face in stunned disbelief.
""Never speak to me like that again,"" Victoria snarled, leaning over him like a predatory bird. ""We have not lost. Adrian thinks he has won because he holds the deeds. But deeds are worthless to a dead man.""
Julian’s eyes widened with genuine fear. ""Mom... what are you talking about?""
Victoria pulled an old, burner phone from her designer handbag—the only valuable possession she had managed to smuggle out of the house. ""Do you remember your cousin Derek? The one who ran operations for the private contracting firm in Virginia before he was court-martialed?""
""Derek is insane, Mom! He did three years in federal prison for arms smuggling!""
""Derek knows how to resolve problems quietly,"" Victoria whispered, her voice chillingly calm as she dialed an unlisted number. ""Adrian will be driving back from that country clinic tonight. The roads around Clover Creek are dark, unlit, and full of sharp ravines. A single mechanical failure or a sudden collision, and the trust passes directly to the surviving minor heir—you.""
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Julian scrambled off the bed, backing away toward the bathroom door. ""No... Mom, stop. That's murder!""
Victoria pressed the phone to her ear, ignoring her son's pleas. ""Derek? It's your Aunt Victoria. I have a contract that requires your immediate expertise.""
