Chapter 11 - THE PRICE OF LARKIN’S MOTHER
Thomas did not kidnap Evelyn by force.
That was the first important fact.
He arrived with documents showing himself as family representative.
The facility had outdated authorization records.
Evelyn agreed to leave because Thomas told her Larkin had been arrested.
A lie.
But voluntary on paper.
Again, systems failing because people trusted documents.
Larkin nearly lost control.
He wanted every road checked.
Every airport.
Every property.
Sarah stopped him.
So did I.
“What if he hurts her?”
“What if you rush and he panics?”
His face hardened.
“I have waited twenty-one years.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
He was right.
So I changed.
“I know you’re terrified.”
That stopped him.
Not weak.
Terrified.
He looked away.
Then his phone rang.
Thomas.
Speaker.
“Cousin.”
Larkin’s voice went cold.
“Put her on.”
“No.”
“What do you want?”
“Solstice transfer.”
Of course.
Thomas wanted me to sign away the veto share and beneficial interest.
In exchange:
Evelyn’s location.
I almost laughed.
He had reduced everything to a contract.
Family tradition.
Thomas continued:
“Penelope signs. Assets revert. Everyone walks.”
“Everyone?”
“Yes.”
“Including you?”
“I leave.”
I looked at Larkin.
Then said:
“Send the documents.”
Thomas paused.
He expected resistance.
Good.
We received them.
Sarah reviewed.
If signed, I would surrender any claim to Solstice and affirm historical ownership documents were valid.
Meaning I would ratify forged paperwork.
No.
But Thomas did not know we knew.
We scheduled signing at a law office.
Public.
Cameras.
Attorneys.
Thomas agreed to appear by secure video.
Evelyn would appear too.
At the meeting, I held the pen.
Thomas smiled on screen.
“There she is.”
I smiled back.
“Hi, Thomas.”
“You clean up nicely.”
“Still thinking about the gala?”
“It was educational.”
“For both of us.”
Larkin sat across the table.
Silent.
Thomas displayed Evelyn.
Alive.
Seated in a hotel room.
No obvious injury.
“Mom,” Larkin said.
She looked toward camera.
“Larkin?”
His face broke for half a second.
Then recovered.
I signed.
Thomas smiled.
Except I did not sign his agreement.
I signed an affidavit formally disputing every prior signature and ownership instrument.
Sarah immediately filed the challenge.
At the same time, independent counsel notified banks of fraud concerns.
Thomas’s face changed.
“What did you do?”
I held up the pen.
“You wanted a signature.”
Rage.
Then Larkin said:
“Where is she?”
Thomas ended the call.
But video metadata had been preserved by the platform under legal process.
Hotel chain identified.
New Jersey.
Police moved.
Not Larkin’s men.
He hated that.
But obeyed.
Evelyn was found two hours later.
Thomas gone.
She had been left with cash and a note:
SORRY.
That was almost worse.
He loved her.
In some twisted way.
Yet still used her.
Then hotel footage showed Thomas entering a car.
Driver:
Roman Bellini.
My stomach dropped.
Roman had lied.
Again.
Then Roman called me.
“Before you decide I betrayed you, listen.”
He was not helping Thomas escape.
He was bringing him somewhere.
“Where?”
“To the only person he’s afraid of.”
“Who?”
Roman answered:
“His mother.”
May you like
Thomas’s mother, Isabelle Steves, had supposedly died fifteen years earlier.
Apparently nobody in this family stayed dead correctly.
