Chapter 20 - THE UNFINISHED WAR
The image loaded slowly on her screen, the high-resolution photo revealing a dimly lit conference room that Maya recognized instantly—it was the private boardroom of the Sterling Foundation’s Board of Trustees, a division that had supposedly been dissolved during the federal asset freeze.
Sitting at the head of the mahogany table, looking directly into the security camera with a cold, knowing smirk, was a man Maya had trusted implicitly from the very beginning of her ordeal—the very person who had introduced her to Eleanor Vance on that fateful night at the gala.
It was Arthur Sterling, Daniel’s uncle and the current Chairman of the Board of the Maya Sterling Healing Project.
Maya’s breath caught in her throat. The phone buzzed again with a second text message from the unknown sender:
*“He funded Daniel’s defense from an offshore account while smiling in your face at the foundation. And he’s scheduled to speak at your national gala tomorrow night in New York.”*
She looked from the phone screen to the calendar hanging on her office wall. Tomorrow night. The grand charity gala at the Plaza Hotel, where she was set to accept the Humanitarian of the Year award in front of five hundred global leaders, politicians, and journalists.
Arthur wasn't just an ally. He was the architect of the entire dynasty. And he had positioned himself right inside her inner circle, waiting for the dust to settle so he could seize control of her foundation and everything she had built.
The cottage door behind her creaked open. Eleanor walked in, holding a fresh cup of coffee, her face glowing with excitement about tomorrow's gala.
"Maya, are you ready for the big speech tomorrow? Private jet is booked for dawn, and the venue is completely sold out..." Eleanor stopped mid-sentence, noticing the pale, rigid expression on Maya’s face. "Maya? What is it? What’s wrong?"
Maya slowly turned the laptop screen toward her, pointing at the face of Arthur Sterling glowing in the dim light of the study.
Eleanor’s smile vanished, her coffee mug slipping from her fingers and shattering against the wooden floor, the dark liquid pooling like a dark omen across the boards.
"My God," Eleanor whispered, her voice trembling in the quiet room. "He was there the whole time."
May you like
Maya stood up slowly, the lingering peace of the mountains vanishing, replaced by the sharp, electric clarity of a warrior preparing for the final battle. She walked over to the closet, reached inside, and pulled out her sharpest, most impeccably tailored black blazer.
"Book the jet," Maya said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper as she stared out the window into the gathering darkness. "We’re going back to New York. And this time, we finish it."
