Chapter 8 - The Saboteur Exposed
With Genevieve stripped of her corporate authority, the investigation turned toward the specific mechanics of Julian’s death. The "accident" on the Pacific Coast Highway was no longer a mystery, but a crime scene. I spent my nights poring over the technical files Julian had hidden—blueprints of the override software and, crucially, a digital signature that had been left behind.
The signature belonged to none other than Clara.
I didn't confront her in the shadows; I invited her to a "reconciliation dinner" at the penthouse. She arrived, smug and defiant, expecting me to beg for her mercy or perhaps offer a buyout. She didn't know I had the District Attorney and a pair of federal agents waiting in the adjoining room.
"You're pathetic, Isabelle," Clara sneered, swirling a glass of wine. "You think you can run a billion-dollar empire with a newborn strapped to your chest? You’re a placeholder. Soon, the board will grow tired of your theatrics, and I’ll take what's mine."
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"You already took enough, Clara," I said, sliding a tablet across the table. It displayed the code she had used to hijack the car’s steering system. "I tracked the IP address. It leads directly to your private server. And the bribe payments you accepted from Marcus Vane? They're all here."
Clara’s face lost its color. She lunged for the tablet, but I pulled it back. The doors opened, and the agents stepped in. As they read her her rights, Clara didn't scream; she slumped, staring at me with a hatred that finally felt empty. She had sacrificed her brother for a seat at a table that was already burning.
