Chapter 4 - THE 4:00 AM CONFESSION
Sofia Varric’s hands began to shake violently against her silk clutch. "What... what is that garbage, Matteo? A dirty hospital band from a charity clinic?"
"It’s the band Dr. Evelyn Vance cut from this child’s ankle twenty-two days ago in New Jersey, Sofia," Matteo said, every word hitting the foyer like a sledgehammer. "Before she injected Liana Graves with a paralytic and declared her healthy baby dead."
"That is an absurd, slanderous lie!" Sofia shrieked, backing toward the front entrance doors. "Elena gave birth to Nico nine months ago! You were there! We have the birth certificate registered with the State of New York!"
Matteo tapped his smartphone.
The massive, eighty-five-inch digital display monitor mounted above the grand fireplace flickered to life.
The crystal-clear video from St. Jude’s Clinic began to play in 4K resolution, echoing Dr. Evelyn Vance’s voice through the foyer speakers:
“The biological heir is secured. Administer the paralytic to the mother and sign the stillbirth death certificate. Matteo will never know the real Nico died at six months.”
Dr. Nolan Price dropped to both knees on the cold marble floor, clutching his hands together in a frantic, weeping plea.
"Mr. Varric, please! Have mercy!" Dr. Price sobbed hysterically. "It was Sofia! Sofia paid me two million dollars from the foundation’s offshore accounts in the Bahamas! She told me that if you found out Elena’s real baby died while you were in Europe, the family board would strip her of her trustee position and assign the entire four-hundred-million-dollar estate to the city charity council!"
"Shut up, Nolan!" Sofia screamed, lunging toward the doctor with her manicured nails clawed. "Shut your mouth!"
Two armed tactical operators moved forward with lethal efficiency. One slammed Sofia backward against the marble pillar, twisting her arms behind her back with a practiced, brutal torque.
CLICK. CLICK.
Heavy steel handcuffs snapped shut over Sofia’s wrists.
Sofia thrashed against the restraints, her designer gown tearing at the shoulder, glaring at Liana with raw, unadulterated venom.
"You think you’ve won, you little charity trash?!" Sofia spat, saliva flying from her lips. "You’re a penniless substitute teacher from Queens! You have no money, no lawyers, and no power! Even if that brat is yours, the legal adoption papers are sealed under my name! You will never walk out of this city with a Varric heir!"
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Matteo stepped directly in front of his sister, leaning down until his gray eyes were two inches from hers.
"She is not walking out of this city, Sofia," Matteo whispered into her face, his voice colder than grave dirt. "She is staying in this house as the sole, sovereign matriarch of the Varric family. And you... are going to the federal holding cells at the Brooklyn Navy Yard."
