Chapter 8 - Checkmate
"That is a deep fake!" Victor shouted, standing up and slamming his fist on the table.
"He fabricated this audio to frame me! The man is mentally unstable!"
I didn't argue with him; I simply pressed another button on my remote.
The screen shifted from the audio waveform to a live video feed from Dr. Marcus Thorne's laboratory.
Marcus appeared on screen, holding up the glass vial and the detailed chemical analysis report.
"The substance found in Mr. Vance's private residence is a lethal, unregistered neurotoxin," Marcus stated clearly for the record.
"We have matched the chemical signature to trace elements found in Mr. Vance's hair and blood samples."
The boardroom doors suddenly swung open, and four federal agents walked into the room, led by my private investigator, Elias.
"Victor Sterling and Clara Sterling," the lead agent said, pulling a pair of steel handcuffs from his belt.
"You are both under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, corporate fraud, and attempted poisoning."
Cassandra—Clara—let out a piercing scream, lunging toward the door, but Elias easily caught her by the arm.
"Let me go! You can't do this to me!" she shrieked, all of her elegant poise vanishing into feral panic.
Victor slumped back into his chair, defeated, holding his head in his hands as the agents read them their rights.
I stood up slowly, walking over to where Cassandra was struggling against the handcuffs.
She glared at me, her beautiful face twisted into an ugly mask of pure hatred.
"You should have been dead," she spat at me, venom dripping from every word.
"And you should have been nicer to the staff," I replied coldly, turning my back on her for the final time.
As the police dragged them out of the building, the remaining board members stared at me in stunned silence.
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"Now," I said, walking back to the head of the table and taking Victor's vacated seat.
"Let's get back to business."
