Chapter 7
Victor was not hiding.
He was hosting dinner.
Of course.
Twelve senior Ashford men sat around the old winter table when Dad and I entered.
My uncle stood at the far end with a glass of wine.
He looked at me.
Then at my father.
Then at the fact that I was still standing.
“Charles.”
Dad’s voice stayed low.
“Victor.”
No one else spoke.
I noticed a projector already set up behind them.
My edited life waited inside it.
Victor did not deny anything.
That disappointed me.
I had hoped for at least one creative lie.
Instead he said:
“You weren’t supposed to see the footage before the discussion.”
I almost smiled.
“Sorry to ruin dinner.”
A few men shifted.
Good.
Victor looked at Dad.
“This is exactly what I warned you about.”
“What?”
“Emotion.”
I laughed.
He had just tried to evict a six-week-old infant from her nursery and somehow my emotional response was the scandal.
Dad did not defend me.
Good.
I did not need him to.
I walked toward the projector.
“Play it.”
Victor frowned.
I repeated:
“Play it.”
He did.
The room watched an edited Bianca.
Crying.
Exhausted.
Snapping at Logan.
Handing Ruby away.
Then the driveway.
Only my response.
The crib panel slamming Logan against the door.
Nothing before.
One older capo looked uncomfortable.
Victor saw it.
“This is what I’m talking about.”
I looked at the man.
“Thomas.”
The unedited footage began.
Logan tearing apart Ruby’s crib.
The overnight bag kicked across the lawn.
Savannah in my mother’s necklace.
Ruby’s clothes boxed.
The replacement crib.
Logan using the crib panel to shove our bags outside.
Then me handing Ruby safely to Nora before I touched him.
The room changed.
Context is a dangerous thing for liars.
Victor’s jaw tightened.
I looked around the table.
“You were shown my reaction.”
I pointed at the screen.
“He hid the cause.”
No speech.
No plea.
Just evidence.
Then Dad asked one question.
“Who here knew the footage was edited?”
Three men looked down.
May you like
Perfect.
The faction had just identified itself.
