Chapter 2 - The Inner Circle
Downstairs in the east wing of the Kane estate, Sterling Kane poured himself a finger of neat bourbon from a crystal decanter. The grandfather clock in the corner chimed four times, its heavy strokes echoing through the silent, oppressive halls.
Across the mahogany desk sat Arthur Pendelton, the senior partner of Kane Industries' legal counsel. Pendelton’s fingers tapped a steady, nervous rhythm against the wood.
"The girl is asking too many questions, Sterling," Pendelton said, his voice tight. "My sources at St. Ambrose told me she was one of their best ICU nurses before Whitfield engineered that negligence charge. If she starts looking at the medical logs—"
"She won't look at anything," Sterling interrupted smoothly, taking a slow sip of his bourbon. His pale eyes gleamed with cold ambition. "She’s a cornered animal. She has a dying mother in an assisted-living facility that costs more than her car is worth. Do you really think a homeless girl with a criminal record is going to outsmart Dr. Whitfield?"
"Everett was worth three billion dollars when he hit that guardrail," Pendelton reminded him, leaning forward. "And every single asset is locked in a revocable trust that requires his signature or a certified death certificate to transfer control. The board is getting restless. The shipping contracts with the syndicates in New York are up for renewal next month. If Everett doesn't 'pass away' naturally by the end of the month, the whole house of cards collapses on both of us."
Sterling set his glass down so hard the amber liquid sloshed over the rim.
"Then we accelerate the timeline," Sterling said softly. "Whitfield has been giving him enough pentobarbital to keep an elephant down. Tell the doctor to double the evening dose. If the girl tries to interfere, make her disappear with her mother. A car accident on the highway. Very tragic. Very sudden."
Neither man noticed the shadow detach itself from the arched doorway behind them.
May you like
Mr. Crowley, the estate manager, stood silently in the darkness. His face was entirely devoid of expression, his hands clasped neatly behind his back. He had served the Kane family for forty years, watching Everett build an empire out of blood and iron.
Crowley listened to every word, turned soundlessly on his heel, and walked away into the shadows.
