Chapter 11
The heavy oak double doors of the Sterling estate, the very doors Bennett had walked out of the night before, stood wide open. The bitter winter wind howled into the grand living room, scattering the fallen pine needles from the shattered Christmas tree across the ivory carpet. Federal auditors in dark suits swarmed the property, cataloging every piece of expensive furniture and jewel-toned decor. Clara stood on the front steps, shivering in a thin designer coat. "You can't do this! I have children!" she screamed at a stoic federal agent. "Where are we supposed to go?" "That is not our concern, ma'am," the agent replied coldly. "The property belongs to Apex Holdings now." Robert sat on a frozen stone bench nearby, his rosy skin pale and haggard. His empire was gone. "Where is Silas?" he muttered, his voice trembling. "He was supposed to call the offshore accounts. He was supposed to fix this." Clara turned on her father, her eyes wild with panic and betrayal. "Silas? Your golden child took his passport and drove off at dawn! He abandoned us, Dad! We have absolutely nothing left, and it is all your fault for pushing Bennett too far!" "You shut your mouth, Clara!" Robert snarled, struggling to stand. "Bennett is a fluke. A statistical anomaly! I will hire the best litigators in the country. I will tie Apex Holdings up in court for a decade!" "With what money?" Clara laughed, a hysterical, broken sound. "He froze the accounts. He took the college funds, the cars, the trusts. Bennett didn't just beat you, Dad. He erased you." Robert stared at the shattered glass ornaments still glittering on his ruined floor, a terrifying realization setting in. Silas hadn't gone to the banks. Silas had gone to seek revenge.
