Chapter 16 - The Judas Kiss
Emily’s breath died in her chest.
Down in the courtyard, illuminated by the harsh crimson glare of the flare, Vanessa was looking up at the second-floor window. There was no terror in Vanessa’s eyes now. No trembling, no frantic pacing. Her expression was completely cold, calculated, and devoid of the sisterly warmth Emily had leaned on for ten years.
Julian’s laughter crackled through the speaker in the master bedroom. "Did you really believe Vanessa pushed you off that cliff out of panic, Emily? Did you honestly swallow that little fairy tale about her trying to save you?"
Emily dropped the gun to her side, her entire world spinning off its axis. "No..."
"Vanessa has been on my payroll since Paris, darling," Julian murmured. "Who do you think introduced us at the Louvre gala? Who do you think fed me your family’s deepest financial vulnerabilities? Who do you think doctored the prenuptial agreement to ensure the insurance payout bypassed your board?"
Emily’s phone buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled it out with numb fingers. It was an incoming call from Vanessa.
Emily answered, pressing the phone to her ear without tearing her gaze from the woman in the courtyard below.
"Why, Ness?" Emily whispered, her voice shattering. "I gave you everything. You were my sister."
"Sisters don't treat sisters like charity cases, Emily," Vanessa’s voice came through the receiver, sharp and bitter as battery acid. "For ten years, I stood two steps behind you in every photograph. I wore the dresses you discarded. I lived in the apartments you subsidized. You threw me scraps from your father’s empire and expected me to kiss your feet for it."
"I loved you," Emily wept, a hot tear finally breaking past her defenses.
"Love doesn't pay for the lifestyle I deserve," Vanessa replied coldly. "Julian promised me forty percent of the liquidation. When you survived that cliff, you ruined the clean exit. But now, the narrative is even better: The grieving, traumatized Emily Hayes, unable to bear the loss of her groom, takes her own life in a tragic gas explosion at her Pacific Heights estate."
Through the bedroom window, Emily saw Sarah running out of the front entrance below, shouting Vanessa’s name, completely unaware that Vanessa was holding a detonator.
"Vanessa, stop!" Sarah’s voice echoed from the courtyard. "What are you doing?!"
Vanessa didn't even turn to look at Sarah. She raised the remote detonator and pressed the red toggle.
"Goodbye, Emily," Vanessa said into the phone.
*CLICK.*
A deafening roar ripped through the basement of the mansion.
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The shockwave blew the bay windows inward, spraying shards of razor-sharp glass across the bedroom. The floor beneath Emily’s feet buckled, tilting violently as a column of black smoke and orange fire erupted from the lower levels, tearing the historic home apart.
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