Chapter 6 - The Unraveling
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"Rafe, please!" Sabine sobbed, playing the victim instantly. "She's lying! I didn't ask anyone to kill her! I just asked your lieutenant, Marco, to scare her! She was going to ruin my entire career! She had proof she designed the reverse-beading!"
The confession hung in the air, captured perfectly by the three documentary cameras running continuously at the back of the room.
Everett Coyle, the 79-year-old master craftsman sitting at table nine, slowly stood up.
"You stole the design, Sabine?" Everett asked, his voice carrying the weight of four decades in the fashion industry. "The Second Thread Foundation was built on a lie?"
Sabine looked around wildly. She realized she was surrounded by the very investors and sponsors she relied upon. The foundation, her brand, her entire legacy was currently burning to the ground on live film.
"Turn those cameras off!" Sabine screamed at Priya, the crew leader.
Priya didn't flinch. She kept the camera focused squarely on Sabine’s terrified face.
Rafe released Sabine’s wrist, stepping backward as if she were a diseased animal.
"You used my men. You used my trucks. You brought the police to my doorstep over a stolen dress design," Rafe said, the lethal calm in his voice absolutely terrifying.
"I was protecting our future!" Sabine wept, reaching for his jacket.
"You were protecting your ego," Rafe corrected coldly, brushing her hand away.
He turned his attention back to Billy, who was still kneeling, clutching her bleeding hand.
"You spent four years tracing a garbage truck to find me," Rafe observed, a strange, dark admiration flickering in his eyes.
"I spent four years trying to find justice for a sister who was slaughtered so this woman could wear sequins," Billy corrected, staggering slightly as the blood loss and adrenaline began to catch up to her.
Rafe didn't hesitate. He stripped off his expensive charcoal suit jacket and knelt beside her on the broken glass. He wrapped the jacket tightly around her shoulders, covering her wine-stained, ruined uniform.
"Gideon," Rafe barked without looking up.
May you like
Puit practically tripped over himself rushing forward. "Yes, Chairman!"
"Call an ambulance for Miss Ror," Rafe ordered, lifting Billy effortlessly into his arms. "And call the police. Tell them Sabine Voss is ready to confess to a five-year-old hit-and-run."
