Chapter 5 - The Snake's Counterattack
By Monday morning, the news of the Sterling family scandal had swept through the city’s legal and social circles like a wildfire.
Beatrice’s high-priced defense attorney, Arthur Pendelton—a slick, arrogant litigator known for helping wealthy criminals dodge prison—held a press conference on the steps of the municipal courthouse.
I sat in my home office, watching the live television broadcast on my tablet screen while drinking coffee.
"My client, Beatrice Sterling, is the victim of a malicious smear campaign initiated by her wealthy, estranged sister," Pendelton declared into a cluster of news microphones, adjusting his silk tie. "Ms. Victoria Sterling is an absentee mother who abandoned her child for half a year to pursue corporate profits in Europe. The unfortunate incident regarding young Lily was a simple playground accident between children. My client acted with utmost care, and we will be filing a fifty-million-dollar lawsuit for defamation, unlawful imprisonment, and emotional distress."
I set my coffee cup down with a light clink.
Ten minutes later, my phone rang. The screen displayed "Unknown Caller." I tapped speakerphone.
"Victoria," Beatrice’s voice hissed through the speaker, no longer panicked, but venomous and calculating. She was out on temporary bail. "I hope you enjoyed your little show on Saturday. But Arthur is right. You left Lily with me. I have text messages from you saying 'take care of everything.' My lawyer will twist those texts in court until you look like a cold, negligent mother who abandoned her broken child to attend dinner parties in London."
"Is that your strategy, Beatrice?" I asked calmly.
"I will ruin you in the court of public opinion, Victoria," she sneered. "Unless you drop all criminal charges, pay off my legal fees, and grant me a two-million-dollar trust fund settlement, I will ensure every tabloid in this country runs headlines calling you a monster who neglected her daughter."
I leaned back in my leather chair, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window at the morning sunlight hitting the garden.
"Beatrice," I said softly, my voice smooth and dangerous. "You seem to forget who I am. You spent six months living off my money, forgetting that I didn't make my fortune by being soft. I am a senior partner at the largest litigation firm in Europe."
"Threats won't work on me anymore—"
"I didn't just record the hallway video, Beatrice," I interrupted. "I installed an enterprise-grade, encrypted audio-visual surveillance network throughout every room of this estate three years ago. I have forty-eight hours of high-definition footage of you shouting at Lily, refusing her medical treatment, boasting to your friends about draining my accounts, and instructing Mason to 'put the brat in her place.'"
The line went completely dead for five full seconds.
"You... you recorded the bedrooms?" Beatrice stammered, her voice suddenly cracking.
May you like
"I recorded the common areas, the guest house living room, and the pantry," I corrected flatly. "Including the conversation you had on Friday night with your illegal pawn broker discussing the sale of my mother's emerald ring. The District Attorney has already received the encrypted hard drives. Have a wonderful day at your arraignment, sister."
I disconnected the call before she could scream.
