CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

The Prison Visit - 6:15 AM

The holding cell smells like disinfectant and despair. Sebastian sits on the metal bench, his prison uniform bearing a name he hasn't used in decades: BECKER.

The guard unlocks the door. "You got a visitor."

Sebastian looks up. His face changes when he sees who it is.

Penelope.

She walks in wearing a designer coat and heels that click against the concrete floor. Her expression is cold. Amused. Victorious.

"Hello, Father," she says.

Sebastian stands. "Penelope. Thank God you're here. I need you to—"

"To what?" She crosses her arms. "Get you out? Hire lawyers? Pretend you didn't abandon me in that orphanage?"

Sebastian's jaw tightens. "I did what I had to do. To protect you."

"Protect me?" Penelope laughs. It's a harsh, bitter sound. "You left me there to be trafficked. To be sold like merchandise. That's not protection, Sebastian. That's abandonment."

"I gave you everything!" Sebastian's voice rises. "A name. A future. I pulled you out of poverty—"

"And threw me into hell." Penelope steps closer to the bars. "Do you know what they did to me in Italy? Do you want to hear the details?"

Sebastian looks away.

"No," Penelope says quietly. "You don't. Because you never cared. You only cared about yourself. About your empire. About your reputation."

"That's not true."

"Then why am I here?" Penelope's eyes are cold. "Why did you call me? What do you want from me, Sebastian?"

Sebastian grabs the bars. "I need your help. Jessica set me up. She orchestrated all of this. If you can just get me a lawyer—someone who can prove—"

"Prove what?" Penelope interrupts. "That you're innocent? We both know you're not."

"Penelope, please—"

"You killed people." Her voice is steady. Factual. "You buried bodies. You destroyed lives. And now you want me to save you?"

Sebastian's face crumbles. He drops to his knees, still gripping the bars. "I'm begging you. I'm your father. I raised you. I gave you everything I had—"

"You gave me nothing." Penelope looks down at him with disgust. "And now you have nothing. How does it feel, Sebastian? To be powerless? To be trapped?"

"Penelope—"

"Pathetic." She turns to leave. "That's what you are. Pathetic."

"Wait!" Sebastian's voice cracks. "Don't leave me here! Please!"

But Penelope is already walking away, her heels echoing down the corridor.

The guard locks the cell door behind her.

Sebastian collapses against the bars, his face in his hands.

And for the first time in decades, he cries.

The Hospital - 8:32 AM

Lauren stands outside Sloane's hospital room, her arms crossed defensively. Kira sits in his wheelchair, blocking her path.

"I need to see my daughter," Lauren says.

"No." Kira's voice is firm. "You don't."

"She's my daughter!"

"She's also a victim." Kira's eyes are hard. "A victim of your manipulation. Your lies. Your pills."

Lauren's face goes pale. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The memory-loss medication." Kira wheels closer. "The pills you've been giving Sloane. The ones that made her forget what she saw. What Zoey did."

"I was trying to protect her—"

"You were trying to protect yourself." Kira's voice is cold. "You knew Sloane witnessed Riley's murder. You knew she could testify. So you drugged her. Made her forget. Kept her silent."

Lauren's hands shake. "That's not—"

"I have the prescription records." Kira pulls out a folder. "Your name. Your signature. Months of refills."

Lauren stares at the documents. "I was helping her. She was having nightmares—"

"She was having nightmares because she saw someone die!" Kira's voice rises. "And instead of getting her real help, you erased her memories. You made her doubt her own mind."

"I did what I thought was best."

"You did what was convenient." Kira's expression is disgusted. "And now Sloane is paying the price. She thinks she's losing her mind. She thinks she has early-onset dementia. All because of you."

Lauren's eyes fill with tears. "I'm her mother. I was trying to protect her from Zoey—"

"Then you should have gone to the police." Kira wheels backward. "But you didn't. Because you were scared. Scared of Zoey. Scared of losing your position. Scared of the truth."

"Please," Lauren whispers. "Let me see her. Let me explain—"

"No." Kira blocks the door. "You're not going near Sloane. Not now. Not ever. If I see you anywhere near her, I'll have you arrested for medical malpractice and child endangerment."

Lauren's face crumbles. "You can't do that."

"Watch me." Kira's voice is ice. "Now get out of this hospital before I call security."

Lauren stands frozen for a moment. Then she turns and walks away, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Kira watches her go, his expression unreadable.

Inside the room, Sloane sits on the bed, staring at her hands.

She heard everything.

The Condo - 11:18 AM

Zoey sits at the dining table, a glass of wine in front of her. She's exhausted. Dark circles under her eyes. Her hands shake slightly as she reaches for the glass.

Sloane enters from the kitchen, carrying the wine bottle. "More?"

"Please." Zoey holds out her glass.

Sloane pours. Her movements are careful. Deliberate.

In her pocket, the empty pill bottle feels like a weight.

She crushed twenty pills into the wine. Maybe more. She lost count.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Zoey says, taking a sip.

Sloane sits across from her. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired." Zoey rubs her temples. "Everything is falling apart. Sebastian's in prison. The foundation is in chaos. The board is demanding answers I don't have."

"Maybe you should rest."

"I can't rest." Zoey takes another drink. "I have too much to do. Too many fires to put out."

Sloane watches her mother drink. Watches the wine disappear.

"Mom," she says quietly. "Do you remember what happened to Riley?"

Zoey's hand freezes. "What?"

"Riley Oh. Do you remember what happened to her?"

Zoey sets down the glass. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because I need to know." Sloane's voice is steady. "I need to know if you remember."

Zoey stares at her daughter. "Riley fell. It was an accident."

"Was it?"

"Of course it was." Zoey's voice rises. "Why would you think otherwise?"

Sloane doesn't answer. She just watches as her mother picks up the glass and drains it.

"I need more wine," Zoey says, standing. She sways slightly.

"Mom, maybe you should—"

Zoey's phone rings. She answers it without looking at the caller ID. "What?"

"Ms. Skye." It's Kyo Khan. His voice is formal. Cold. "We need to talk about the construction company sale."

Zoey's face goes pale. "Kyo. Yes. Of course. When can we meet?"

"We can't." Kyo's voice is flat. "The sale is off."

"What? No. We had a deal—"

"We had a deal before your name was all over the news." Kyo's voice is hard. "Before the allegations. Before the investigations. The Khan family cannot be associated with someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Zoey's voice cracks. "Kyo, please. I need this sale. I'm drowning in debt—"

"That's not my problem." Kyo's voice is final. "The deal is off. Don't contact me again."

He hangs up.

Zoey stares at the phone. Her hands are shaking.

"Mom?" Sloane stands. "What's wrong?"

"Everything." Zoey's voice is barely a whisper. "Everything is wrong."

She pours herself another glass of wine with trembling hands.

And drinks.

The Restaurant - 2:47 PM

Mariah sits at a corner table, her phone recording. Across from her, Zoey looks desperate.

"I'm offering you five million dollars," Zoey says. "Cash. Untraceable. All you have to do is keep quiet about what you think you know."

"What I think I know?" Mariah's smile is cold. "I don't think anything, Zoey. I know. I have proof."

"Proof of what?"

"That you killed my mother." Mariah's voice is steady. "That you pushed her off that cliff. That you murdered her in cold blood."

Zoey's face goes white. "That's insane. I would never—"

"Save it." Mariah leans forward. "I have the dashcam footage. From Riley's car. It shows everything."

Zoey's breath catches. "That's impossible. The car was destroyed—"

"The car was destroyed. The footage wasn't." Mariah pulls out her phone. "Cloud backup. Automatic upload. Riley set it up months ago."

She turns the phone around.

On the screen: Zoey and Riley at the cliff's edge. Zoey's hands on Riley's shoulders. The push. Riley falling.

Zoey stares at the footage, her face frozen in horror.

"So here's what's going to happen," Mariah says calmly. "You're going to confess. Publicly. Or I'm going to release this footage to every news outlet in the city."

"You can't—"

"I already have." Mariah gestures to the restaurant entrance.

Zoey turns.

Reporters flood in. Cameras. Microphones. Questions shouted from every direction.

"Ms. Skye! Is it true you murdered Riley Oh?"

"Ms. Skye! Do you have a statement about the dashcam footage?"

"Ms. Skye! Did you push Riley Oh off a cliff?"

Zoey stands, backing away. "No. This is a lie. This is all a lie—"

But the footage is already playing on their phones. On their tablets. On the restaurant's television screens.

Zoey. Riley. The cliff. The push. The fall.

Over and over and over.

Zoey stumbles backward, her vision blurring. The wine. The pills. Everything is spinning.

"No," she whispers. "No, no, no—"

She runs.

Out of the restaurant. Into the street. Cameras following her every step.

Mariah watches her go, a satisfied smile on her face.

Justice, she thinks. Finally.

The Street - 3:15 PM

Zoey's phone won't stop ringing. News alerts. Text messages. Calls from board members. Calls from lawyers.

She ignores them all.

Her head is pounding. Her vision keeps blurring. She can't think straight.

The pills. Sloane put something in the wine.

She stumbles into an alley, leaning against the wall.

Her phone rings again. Unknown number.

She answers. "What?"

"Ms. Skye." The voice is unfamiliar. Male. Threatening. "We need to talk about your debt."

"What debt?"

"The fifty million dollars Sebastian Gaston borrowed using your name as collateral." The voice is cold. "He's in prison. Which means you're responsible."

Zoey's blood runs cold. "I didn't borrow anything—"

"Your signature is on the documents. Your assets are listed as collateral. You have seventy-two hours to pay. Or we start collecting."

"I don't have fifty million dollars!"

"Then you better find it." The voice is final. "Seventy-two hours, Ms. Skye. Or we take everything. Starting with your family."

The line goes dead.

Zoey stares at the phone, her hands shaking.

Sebastian. That bastard. He set her up. Used her name. Destroyed her credit. Left her holding the debt.

She tries to call him. Prison. No answer.

She tries to call her lawyers. All of them have resigned.

She tries to call the board. No one picks up.

She's alone.

Completely alone.

And then she feels a hand on her shoulder.

She spins around.

Amber stands behind her, a syringe in her hand.

"Hello, Zoey," Amber says calmly.

"What are you—"

Amber jabs the needle into Zoey's neck.

Zoey's eyes go wide. She tries to scream but her voice won't work. Her legs give out.

Amber catches her as she falls.

"Shh," Amber whispers. "It's okay. You're going to sleep now."

Zoey's vision fades to black.

The Warehouse - 6:34 PM

Zoey wakes up strapped to a bed.

Not just any bed.

The same bed she used to keep Kira.

The leather straps. The metal frame. The IV stand beside it.

She tries to move. Can't. The straps are too tight.

"Help!" she screams. "Someone help me!"

No answer.

The room is dark. Cold. Empty.

She recognizes it. The warehouse on the east side. The one she used for Kira. The one she thought no one knew about.

But someone knew.

Someone found it.

Someone brought her here.

"Help!" she screams again. "Please!"

The door opens.

Amber walks in, carrying a medical bag.

"You're awake," she says calmly. "Good."

"Let me go!" Zoey struggles against the straps. "You can't do this!"

"I can." Amber sets down the bag. "And I am."

"Why?"

"Because you did this to Kira." Amber's voice is cold. "You kept him here. Drugged him. Tortured him. Made him think he was losing his mind."

"That was different—"

"How?" Amber steps closer. "How is this different, Zoey? You strapped him to this bed. You injected him with drugs. You made him suffer."

"I was trying to help him—"

"You were trying to control him." Amber's eyes are hard. "Just like you controlled everyone else. Sloane. Kyle. Sebastian. All of us."

"Please," Zoey whispers. "Please let me go. I'll give you anything. Money. Property. Anything you want—"

"I don't want your money." Amber pulls out a syringe. "I want you to understand what you did. To feel what Kira felt."

"No. No, please—"

Amber injects the syringe into the IV line.

Zoey feels the drug enter her system. Cold. Burning. Spreading through her veins.

"What did you give me?" she gasps.

"The same thing you gave Kira." Amber's voice is calm. "A sedative. Mixed with a hallucinogen. You'll be awake. But you won't be able to move. And you'll see things. Terrible things."

"No—"

"Yes." Amber turns to leave. "Welcome to hell, Zoey. Enjoy your stay."

The door closes.

Zoey is alone in the darkness.

And then the hallucinations begin.

The Airport - 7:52 PM

Chris and Angel stand at the security checkpoint, their bags packed, their tickets in hand.

"Dubai," Angel says with a grin. "Sun. Beaches. No extradition treaty."

Chris laughs. "We did it. We actually pulled it off."

"Fifty million dollars." Angel shakes his head. "Split between us. We're set for life."

They approach the gate.

And then they hear it.

"Chris Becker. Angel Martinez. You're under arrest."

They turn.

Federal agents. Badges. Guns.

"What?" Chris backs away. "We didn't do anything—"

"Embezzlement. Fraud. Money laundering." The lead agent steps forward. "You're both under arrest for stealing from the Skye Foundation."

"That's insane!" Angel protests. "We were just employees—"

"You were accomplices." The agent pulls out handcuffs. "And we have the bank records to prove it."

Chris tries to run.

He doesn't make it three steps before he's tackled to the ground.

Angel just stands there, his hands raised, his face pale.

"This is Jessica's doing," he whispers. "She set us up."

The agent smiles. "Smart woman."

They're both cuffed and led away.

The other passengers watch in silence.

Another empire crumbles.

The Hospital - 9:23 PM

Kyle sits beside Sloane in the examination room. The doctor reviews the test results on a tablet.

"Well," the doctor says. "The good news is there's no sign of dementia. No cognitive decline. Your brain scans are completely normal."

Sloane stares at her. "What?"

"You're fine." The doctor smiles. "Whatever symptoms you were experiencing, they weren't caused by a neurological condition."

Kyle looks at Sloane. "But you said you were forgetting things. Having blackouts—"

"I was." Sloane's voice is quiet. "But not because of dementia."

The doctor frowns. "Then what caused it?"

Sloane reaches into her pocket and pulls out the empty pill bottle. "These."

Kyle takes the bottle, reading the label. "Memory-loss medication? Sloane, why were you taking these?"

"I wasn't." Sloane's voice breaks. "Mom was giving them to me. In my food. In my drinks. She's been drugging me for months."

Kyle's face goes white. "What?"

"She wanted me to forget." Sloane's eyes fill with tears. "Forget what I saw. What Zoey did to Riley. So I wouldn't testify. Wouldn't tell anyone."

"Jesus Christ." Kyle pulls her into a hug. "Sloane, I'm so sorry. I had no idea—"

"I know." Sloane cries into his shoulder. "I didn't either. Not until recently. I started pretending to take them. Hiding them. And my memory came back."

"Everything?"

"Everything." Sloane pulls away, wiping her eyes. "I remember the cliff. I remember Riley. I remember Zoey pushing her."

Kyle's jaw tightens. "We need to tell the police."

"I know." Sloane nods. "But first, I need to tell you something else."

"What?"

"I spiked Mom's wine." Sloane's voice is barely a whisper. "With the pills. All of them. I wanted her to forget. To feel what I felt."

Kyle stares at her. "Sloane—"

"I know it was wrong." Sloane's voice cracks. "But I couldn't let her get away with it. With what she did to me. With what she helped Zoey do."

Kyle doesn't know what to say.

He just holds his daughter as she cries.

The Skye Foundation - 11:47 PM

Zoey stumbles into the office, her clothes disheveled, her hair wild. She escaped from the warehouse. Broke the straps. Ran.

She doesn't know how long she was there. Hours? Days?

The hallucinations are still there. Shadows moving in the corners. Voices whispering.

She needs help. Needs answers. Needs control.

She pushes open the office door.

And freezes.

Jessica sits behind the desk. Kira is beside her in his wheelchair. Kyle stands by the window.

"Hello, Zoey," Jessica says calmly.

"What are you doing here?" Zoey's voice is hoarse. "This is my office—"

"Not anymore." Jessica stands. "As of tonight, you've been removed from your position as CEO of the Skye Foundation."

"What? You can't—"

"We can." Kira wheels forward. "The board voted unanimously. You're fired, Zoey."

Zoey stares at him. "You. You're supposed to be dead."

"Surprise." Kira's smile is cold. "I'm very much alive. And I'm taking over the foundation. My foundation."

"No." Zoey backs away. "No, this is mine. I built this—"

"You stole this." Jessica's voice is hard. "You stole Kira's money. His legacy. His life. And now we're taking it back."

"I'll fight you." Zoey's voice rises. "I'll sue. I'll—"

"You'll do nothing." Kyle steps forward. "Because you're wanted by the police. For murder. For fraud. For everything."

Zoey's phone rings. She looks at the screen.

Unknown number.

She answers. "What?"

"Ms. Skye." The voice from earlier. The loan sharks. "Your seventy-two hours are up. We're coming for you. And your family."

The line goes dead.

Zoey drops the phone. "No. No, this can't be happening—"

"It is." Jessica's voice is final. "You're finished, Zoey. Everything you built. Everything you stole. It's all gone."

Zoey stumbles backward, her vision blurring. The pills. The drugs. The hallucinations.

She can't think. Can't breathe.

She runs.

Out of the office. Down the hallway. Into the elevator.

She needs to find Sloane. Needs to fix this. Needs to—

The elevator doors open.

Madison Tower lobby.

She stumbles out, looking around wildly.

And then she sees her.

Sloane.

Standing by the stairs.

"Sloane!" Zoey runs toward her. "Sweetheart, we need to talk—"

But it's not Sloane.

It's Mariah.

Zoey's drugged mind can't tell the difference. The hallucinations. The memory loss. Everything is blurred.

"Sloane, please—" Zoey grabs Mariah's arm.

"Get off me!" Mariah shoves her away.

"No, you don't understand—" Zoey lunges forward.

They struggle. Mariah tries to break free. Zoey won't let go.

"Mom!" A voice from behind.

Kyle runs in, seeing the fight.

He grabs Zoey, trying to pull her off Mariah.

Zoey spins, striking out blindly.

Kyle loses his balance.

He and Mariah tumble backward, falling down the stairs.

Zoey watches in horror as they crash down the steps.

And then she hears it.

A cracking sound above her.

She looks up.

The chandelier.

The massive crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

It's breaking loose.

She tries to run.

But her legs won't move. The drugs. The exhaustion. Everything.

She reaches up, grabbing the chandelier's chain as it falls.

For a moment, she hangs there, suspended in the air.

And then the chain snaps.

Zoey plummets.

Several feet.

Down.

Down.

Down.

She hits the marble floor with a sickening crack.

The chandelier crashes beside her, crystal shattering into a thousand pieces.

Silence.

And then, from the stairs, Kyle groans.

He's alive.

Mariah is alive.

But Zoey...

Zoey lies motionless on the floor, surrounded by broken glass and twisted metal.

Her eyes are open.

Staring at nothing.

The empire has fallen.

And so has its queen.