Chapter 3 - The Price of Silence
Arthur Vance took a step toward Isabella, his face hardening into a mask of pure corporate malice. "Miss Almeida, you are legally deceased. If you step outside this gate, the assets of Almeida Enterprises will freeze instantly. Your brother’s entire estate will be seized by the federal government for fraud. You will have nothing. No clinics, no money, no future."
"She already has nothing, Arthur," I said, stepping between the attorney and the fragile woman. The fear that had paralyzed me for years suddenly burned away, replaced by an overwhelming wave of maternal anger. "You locked a human being in a cage for five years to protect your stock options. I don't care about your company, but I will not let you touch her."
"You?" Arthur laughed coldly, looking down his nose at my worn sneakers and faded uniform. "You are a maid, Emma. You sign a non-disclosure agreement every single month with your paycheck. If you breathe a word of this, I will ensure you spend the next ten years in a federal penitentiary for extortion."
"She won't be going to prison, Arthur," Thiago said.
The billionaire’s voice had changed. The panic was gone, replaced by a cold, devastating calm. He looked at his sister, then at Samuel, and finally at me.
"Emma has been the only honest person in this house for three years," Thiago said, his fingers gripping the armrests of his wheelchair. "And her son has more courage than my entire board of directors combined. Arthur, you are fired. Effective immediately."
Arthur’s jaw dropped. "Thiago, you can't do that. I hold the power of attorney for your medical decisions. If I declare you mentally incompetent due to your depression—"
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"You won't," Thiago interrupted, pulling a small, black recording device from the side pocket of his wheelchair. It was a digital dictaphone, its red recording light glowing steadily. "Because I've been recording our conversations for the past ten minutes. I have your voice, Arthur, admitting to the cover-up of Isabella’s confinement to secure the merger. If I go down, you are coming to the cell right next to mine."
The attorney went entirely still. The cocky, high-society lawyer who had run the city's legal system for a decade suddenly looked like a cornered animal. Without another word, he snatched his leather briefcase from the terrace table and turned on his heel, his expensive leather shoes squeaking loudly as he fled through the garden gates.
