Chapter 8 - The Motive
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Victor drove back toward Westchester, the steering wheel groaning under the crushing force of his grip. Audrey was attempting the perfect, untraceable murder. But the method only answered the how. Victor needed to know the why.
He pulled into a secluded parking lot overlooking the Hudson River and pulled out his encrypted phone. He didn't call his enforcers. He called his forensic accountant, a paranoid genius named Klein who operated out of a basement in Queens.
“Klein,” Victor barked as soon as the line clicked open. “I need a complete financial teardown on Audrey’s accounts. Not the ones tied to my name. Her private accounts. Offshore, domestic, everything. And pull her father’s files while you're at it.”
“Boss, her father is Judge Sterling,” Klein stammered, clearly terrified by the request. “Poking around a federal judge’s financials is a great way to trigger an FBI audit.”
“Do it anyway,” Victor commanded. “You have two hours.”
Victor sat in the freezing car, watching the gray river flow past. He played every interaction with Audrey over in his mind. The sweet smiles, the passionate nights, the seamless way she had integrated herself into his world. She had played the perfect mob wife in training. She turned a blind eye to his business and focused entirely on the estate.
Two hours later, the encrypted phone buzzed.
“You aren't going to like this, Victor,” Klein said, his voice tight with anxiety.
“Talk.”
“Audrey is broke,” Klein said rapidly. “Worse than broke. She has massive, catastrophic debt. Seven figures in underground gambling losses tied to a syndicate operating out of Macau. And it gets worse. Judge Sterling isn't the saint the media portrays. He’s heavily leveraged in bad real estate deals. He’s facing complete financial ruin.”
“How does killing my mother solve their problems?” Victor asked, the pieces slowly clicking together.
“The prenuptial agreement, Victor,” Klein explained. “You insisted that Audrey gets nothing if she divorces you. But... I looked at Sylvia’s estate. Your mother controls a massive, generation-skipping trust fund. If Sylvia dies before you and Audrey are legally married, the trust dissolves and the liquid assets transfer directly to you.”
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“And once the money hits my accounts, Audrey has access to it as my fiancée,” Victor finished the sentence, the sheer, cold-blooded brilliance of the plan washing over him.
“Exactly,” Klein said. “She needs your mother dead now, before the wedding, so the cash is readily available to pay off her Macau debts. If they don't get the money by the end of the month, the Triads are going to break her legs, and the Feds are going to audit the Judge.”
