Chapter 5

Andrew stumbled out of the hospital like a man walking to his own execution.

He stood paralyzed on the concrete sidewalk, the cold night air biting at his face. With violently shaking fingers, he pulled out his phone and dialed Tina's number.

The second the line connected, he didn't even say hello. His voice was a dead, hollow monotone.

"Tina. Claire's mother is dead."

There was a stark, deafening silence on the other end of the line. When Tina finally spoke, she laid her faux-shock on thick.

"Oh my god! What? How is that possible..."

"Did you know?" Andrew interrupted, but his tone was an ultimatum that left no room for denial.

Tina's voice instantly wavered, the confident facade cracking.

"I... I swear, Andrew, I'm just hearing about this right now..."

"Shut your fucking mouth!" Andrew roared, the sheer volume of his voice echoing across the empty parking lot. "The hospital records are indisputable! She died three years ago!

"Every single month when you walked into my office holding those fake invoices, demanding cash, you knew she was rotting in the ground, didn't you?"

Silence hung heavy over the line.

When Tina spoke again, the faux-innocence was gone, replaced by a pathetic whine.

"Okay, fine! Yes, I knew! But Andrew, she was ancient! What difference did it make if she got the treatments or not? I was just trying to save you from throwing your money into a bottomless pit!"

"You!"

Andrew shook with fury, but before he could explode, the background noise from the other end caught his ear.

Amidst the chaos, he caught the distinct cries of gamblers calling out bets and shouting for the dealer.

His adrenaline spiked instantly. "Where the hell are you right now?"

Tina's voice hitched in genuine panic.

"I... I'm at the office, Andrew! Obviously!" she stammered rapidly. "Look, the board members are walking in. I have a massive presentation right now. I have to go!"

Before Andrew could demand an explanation, she killed the call in a hurry.

He stood frozen, with his fingers clamped around the phone as if he meant to crush it.

I floated right beside him, watching the color drain from his face until he looked like a corpse. A cold smile touched my lips.

For three years, the hundreds of thousands of dollars he thought were keeping my mother alive had been directly funneled into underground casinos to fuel Tina's gambling addiction.

And this brilliant, untouchable billionaire was stupid enough to believe she had actually reformed.

Andrew took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to force oxygen back into his lungs. He was just about to call his security team to track her phone when his screen lit up again.

It was Mason.

He answered the call before the first ring even finished.

Mason's voice was agonizingly hesitant.

"Mr. Sterling, the private investigators finished their sweep. We have the results."

Andrew's eyes widened with desperate hope. "And? Where is she? Did you find her?"

There was a brutal pause.

Mason hesitated, swallowing hard before finally finding his voice.

"Ms. Claire Simmons... she passed away."

"What?" Andrew breathed, the word barely escaping his lips.

"She died three years ago," Mason continued. "I pulled the homicide reports from the local precinct. She was cornered in an alleyway by a group of loan sharks. She was... she was beaten to death, sir."

The phone clattered to the ground. Andrew had simply let it go.

"She's... she's dead?"

Unable to wait for a formal meeting at the office, Andrew arranged to meet Mason at a nearby café instead.

He sat in the darkest corner booth as his index finger tapped a relentless rhythm against the table.

It was his tell. I knew it intimately. He only ever did that when his anxiety was spiraling completely out of control.