Part 2: My Flight to London Was Canceled—So I Came Home at 1:47 A.M. and Caught My Mother and Sister Attacking My Pregnant Wife

Before I could process Irene's revelation, my phone buzzed violently in my pocket. It was Marcus Vance.

I stepped into the quiet corner of the ICU room and answered. "Marcus?"

"Austin, we have a major development at the district attorney's office," Marcus said, his voice unusually sharp and urgent. "Carla just cracked."

"What do you mean, she cracked?"

"Her public defender realized within five minutes of reviewing your video that she was facing twenty-five to life with zero defense," Marcus explained. "Carla broke down during her initial interrogation. She’s terrified of prison. She just offered a full proffer of state's evidence against Margaret in exchange for a plea deal down to conspiracy and burglary."

"Did she mention Victor Cole?" I asked, cutting straight to the chase.

There was a dead silence on the other end of the line.

"How do you know that name?" Marcus asked, his tone shifting into grave seriousness.

"Irene just told me," I said. "Margaret was communicating with Cole on a burner phone. She promised him half of our father's commercial estate."

"Good God," Marcus exhaled sharply. "That aligns perfectly with what Carla just told the detectives. Carla claims Margaret met with Victor Cole three weeks ago in Atlantic City. Cole provided the forged addendum papers, the financial contacts to liquidate the trust assets, and the prescription drugs to terminate Irene's pregnancy."

"Where is Margaret right now?" I demanded.

"She’s still in the medical ward of the county jail," Marcus said. "Her blood pressure spiked after her arraignment, so they transferred her to the infirmary under guard. But Austin... Carla told the detectives something else."

"What?"

"Margaret didn't just plan this for the money," Marcus said grimly. "Margaret has been deeply in debt to Cole's private lending syndicate for over five years. She owes them seven million dollars from bad offshore investments. Cole gave her an ultimatum: deliver your father’s commercial properties by Friday, or they would come for her."

"So she decided to destroy my family to save her own skin," I said, a bitter rage rising in my throat.

"Yes. But here is the problem," Marcus warned. "If Victor Cole realizes Carla is talking and Margaret is locked up, he’s going to clean up his loose ends. Cole is dangerous, Austin. He has private security teams that operate well outside the law. You and Irene are not safe at that hospital."

"I have private security outside Irene's room right now," I said, glancing through the glass window at the two armed guards in plain clothes I had hired through my logistics company’s security division.

"Double it," Marcus ordered. "I’m on my way to the district attorney right now to secure a federal arrest warrant for Victor Cole. Keep your head down, Austin. Do not leave Irene's side."

I hung up the phone, my jaw clenched so tight my teeth ached.

I walked back over to Irene’s bedside, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Everything is going to be fine, baby. The police know about Cole. It's almost over."

She nodded weakly, closing her eyes as the pain medication began to take hold again. "Be careful, Austin... please."

I pulled a chair directly next to her bed, reached inside my jacket, and checked the grip of the licensed concealed carry pistol I had kept on me since that night.