Chapter 7 - THE CONFRONTATION
By 4:00 a.m., the wounds were bandaged, and the traitors were rounded up.
Inside the grand study of the Blackwood mansion, the fireplace roared, casting long, flickering shadows across the mahogany walls.
Thomas Blackwood sat in a heavy leather armchair, a glass of bourbon in his hand. He was tied to the chair with heavy zip-ties, his silver hair disheveled, his face pale with horror.
Victor stood before the fireplace, wearing a clean black shirt, his left arm resting in a tight sling.
Emma sat at the corner desk, monitoring the security feeds and recording the conversation on a secure digital recorder.
"You can't do this, Victor," Thomas stammered, his voice trembling violently. "I'm your father's brother! I'm family!"
"Family?" Victor repeated, stepping toward his uncle with slow, deliberate steps. "You planted a bomb in my car, Thomas. You killed Arthur. My brother was twenty-four years old."
"It wasn't supposed to be Arthur!" Thomas wept, tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. "The bomb was meant for you! Arthur wasn't supposed to be in that car that morning!"
Emma felt a sickening wave of disgust wash over her as she listened to Thomas's confession.
"You killed your own nephew because you wanted control of the shipping lines," Victor said, his voice dropping into a chillingly calm tone. "You bought off Leo. You bought off my previous caregivers to see if I was truly helpless."
"Victor... please," Thomas begged, squirming in the chair. "I'll sign over everything! All my shares! All my offshore accounts! Just let me leave the country!"
Victor reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a thick leather-bound binder. He tossed it onto Thomas's lap.
"Inside that binder is every piece of evidence my team gathered over the last six months," Victor said calmly. "Bank records. Wiretaps. Leo's recorded confession from an hour ago."
Victor turned to Mrs. Dalton, who stood near the study door.
"Call the Federal Bureau of Investigation," Victor commanded softly. "Tell Special Agent Miller that the Blackwood family is ready to hand over the man responsible for the harbor smuggling ring."
Thomas stared at Victor in absolute disbelief. "The feds?! You're handing me to the government?!"
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"Death is too easy for you, Thomas," Victor said, turning his back on his uncle. "You're going to spend the rest of your life sitting in a tiny concrete cell, thinking about Arthur every single day."
Two federal agents walked into the study five minutes later, slapping steel handcuffs around Thomas's wrists and dragging him out into the rain.
