Chapter 7 - The Interrogation in the Parlor
By seven o'clock that morning, bright gray daylight filtered through the tall arched windows of the grand parlor.
Victoria sat on the velvet sofa, a cup of untouched black tea sitting on the glass table before her.
Ethan walked into the room, holding the micro-cassette tape in his hand. His face was set in hard, unforgiving lines, his blue eyes cold as winter ice.
ETHAN: "Sarah died in childbirth four years ago before Leo was born, Victoria. Why is her voice on a tape locked in a sub-basement built in 1996?"
Victoria looked up, her aristocratic composure completely shattering into raw, terrified tears.
VICTORIA: "Sarah didn't die of natural complications, Ethan! She found out what your father was doing with the offshore accounts before he passed!"
Ethan took three fast, deliberate strides toward her, towering over her sitting frame with terrifying physical presence.
ETHAN: "What was my father doing, Mother?!"
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Victoria buried her face in her trembling hands, her voice dropping into a broken, ragged whisper.
VICTORIA: "He wasn't managing an investment firm, Ethan... he was holding assets for political figures who used this estate as a vault for their private records."
