Chapter 5 - THE VOICE OF THE SNAKE|
The audio recording hissed softly before Arthur’s polished, educated voice filled the dark corridor.
"Is the digitalis working into his nightly scotch?" Arthur’s voice asked through the phone speaker.
"Slowly," Camille replied on the recording. "He thinks he’s just tired from the dock negotiations. His blood pressure readings are already erratic. By next month, his heart will simply stop. It will look like natural cardiac arrest brought on by stress and his dangerous lifestyle."
"Good," Arthur said smoothly. "Once the autopsy is waived by the coroner I paid off, you sign the guardianship transfer. The Sloane empire gets the shipping routes, I take twenty percent of the estate liquid assets, and the children disappear to Europe. No one will question a grieving widow."
"And the housekeeper?" Camille asked on the tape.
"Dispose of her the day after Roman's funeral," Arthur replied without a single second of hesitation. "Make it look like a tragic domestic accident."
The recording ended with a soft click.
Silence descended over the hallway—a heavy, suffocating silence.
The blood on my sleeve felt warm again. The rage that had been boiling inside me suddenly transformed into something far colder, far more lethal. It was the calm that comes over a predator when he realizes he isn't being hunted—he’s just observing the traps set by fools.
"They think I'm a blunt instrument," I whispered, my voice flat and emotionless. "They think because I handle problems with guns and fists, I can't see a chessboard."
"What are you going to do?" Naomi asked, watching me closely.
"You saved my children's lives tonight, Naomi," I said, turning to face her fully. "Now you're going to help me destroy the people who tried to break them."
Inside the library, Camille smoothed her silk robe. "Off to bed, both of you. Now."
Jack picked up his little sister, taking her small hand in his, and led her out the side door toward their bedrooms.
May you like
I waited in the dark until Camille walked down the opposite hall toward the master suite.
"Go to your room, Naomi," I instructed softly. "Act like nothing happened. Tomorrow morning, the game begins."
