Chapter 6 - The Missing Piece
The smell of stale takeout and stale air hit Sabrina the moment she kicked open Justin’s condo door. It was a sterile, masculine space—sparse furniture, a flat-screen TV that blazed with a blue light, and the distinct lack of the warmth she associated with her brother.
Justin sat on the leather sofa, a glass of expensive scotch in hand. He didn't flinch when the door slammed. He just took a slow sip, his eyes locking onto hers with a gaze that was terrifyingly calm.
"You're late," he said.
Sabrina marched into the center of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood. "Don't play games with me, Justin. I know everything. I know you were the one who told Kenneth about the glue trap. I know you wanted to see me fall."
She slammed her hand on the coffee table, the force rattling his glass. "Why? Because you're jealous? Is that it? You wanted the CEO position?"
Justin set the glass down. For the first time, the mask slipped. The arrogance vanished, replaced by a look of weary, tragic resignation.
"I wanted to see you fail because I wanted to be the one to save you," Justin said softly. "I didn't want to see you burn, Sabrina. But I couldn't stand watching you destroy the company from the inside."
"Shut up. Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying. I did what I had to do." Justin stood up and walked to a heavy oak cabinet in the corner of the room. He unlocked it with a key on a chain around his neck and pulled out a thick, black leather ledger. It was bound in cracked leather, smelling of old paper and dust.
He placed it on the table in front of her. "Take a look. This isn't about Kenneth. This is about the real monster in this family."
Sabrina hesitated, then snatched the book up. It felt heavy, like a brick. She flipped through the pages—scribbled notes, numbers, dates. Then, she found it. A section detailing massive embezzlement schemes that had been happening for over a decade, all funneling money directly to Kenneth’s father, Arthur.
"Look at the dates," Justin whispered, leaning in close. "Dad has been bleeding this company dry for years. I tried to stop him. I tried to warn you. But when you wouldn't listen, I had to make sure he couldn't get to the top while you were still there. I tipped Kenneth off so he’d keep you distracted. I did it to save the legacy."
Sabrina’s anger faltered, replaced by a sickening confusion. The ledger was detailed. The math was precise. Justin looked like a martyr, a man trying to expose the rot at the core of the family tree while his own sister played the fool.
"You have this..." Sabrina ran a thumb over the page. "You've had this for a long time."
"I've been gathering it. I needed proof before I went to the board." Justin reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I did this for us, Sabrina. For the family name."
The guilt in his eyes was palpable. Sabrina’s shoulders dropped. Maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong about him. Maybe he was the one who had been looking out for her all along.
She looked down at the ledger again, scanning the final page. It was a transfer authorization. A document authorizing the transfer of a controlling interest of shares from the Rollins estate to Arthur Rollins, effective immediately.
Her breath hitched. The document looked official. The seal looked real.
She flipped to the signature block at the bottom.
*Signed: S. Rollins*
Sabrina froze. Her blood ran cold. She knew her signature. She knew the way she looped her 'S' and the jagged line at the end of her name.
But she hadn't signed this.
She looked up at Justin, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. "Justin... look at this. This signature..."
"It's yours," Justin said smoothly.
"It's not!" Sabrina shrieked, slamming the book shut. "It’s a forgery. Who forged this? Who has access to my signature?"
Justin’s smile was too wide, too perfect. It was the smile of a man who had won.
"Only one person," Justin said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "The one person who has held the pen for you for the last five years."
Sabrina stared at him, the realization crashing down like a wave. She had been so focused on Kenneth, on Maya, on the father... she hadn't looked at the ink on the page.
The signature wasn't just a copy. It was hers. But written with a hand that wasn't hers.
May you like
Justin reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek smartphone. He tapped the screen, bringing up a gallery photo. It was a grainy security footage from the Rollins estate archives. It showed a woman in a wig and oversized clothing entering the study late at night. The woman turned, and the camera caught her face clearly.
Sabrina’s stomach lurched. It was her. But she was standing in the shadows of her own home, signing away her inheritance to her father-in-law.
