Chapter 4 - THE INTERROGATION
The sub-basement of the Vance estate was cold, soundproof, and entirely off the grid. It was where Arthur handled matters that the law was too slow or too corrupt to address. Cassandra was strapped to a heavy steel chair in the center of the room, the harsh fluorescent light beating down on her disheveled hair. Her glamorous facade had completely crumbled, leaving a terrified, hollowed-out husk of a woman.
Arthur walked into the room slowly, the steel door slamming shut behind him with a resonant boom. He didn't speak. He just walked to a metal table and set down the silver capsule, the metal clinking loudly in the quiet room.
"Arthur, please," Cassandra sobbed, the tears ruining her expensive makeup. "The chef is lying! They are all lying! You know me, Arthur! I love you! I would never—"
"Shut up," Arthur said. The sheer violence in those two words made Cassandra flinch as if she had been physically struck. "You killed my daughter."
"No! Arthur, no!"
"The chef confessed, Cassandra," Arthur said, pacing slowly around her chair like a predator circling wounded prey. "He told me about the wire transfers to his offshore accounts. He told me about the poison you procured through your connections in the pharmaceutical division. He told me everything. But what I want to know, what you are going to tell me right now, is why."
Cassandra shook her head violently, sobbing uncontrollably. "I didn't! It wasn't me!"
Arthur stopped directly in front of her, leaning in close. "You forged the suicide note. You killed the only thing in this world that I loved. And tonight, you tried to kill me to take the empire. I am going to ask you one final time, Cassandra. Tell me the truth, or I will let Marcus handle the rest of this conversation. And you know what Marcus does to people who lie to me."
The mention of the brutal security chief broke her. Cassandra slumped forward, her chest heaving as the truth poured out of her like venom from a wound. "She was in the way!" Cassandra screamed, her voice cracking with hysterical rage. "You were going to leave everything to her! I gave you my youth, Arthur! I built your corporate divisions! I stood by you! But you were going to hand the entire kingdom to a weak, pathetic artist who didn't even want it!"
"So you murdered her," Arthur said, his voice dangerously low.
"I gave her what she wanted! Peace!" Cassandra sneered, a twisted, ugly look overtaking her face. "She was an idiot. She didn't even know I was slipping it into her tea. She just fell asleep. And you were so blinded by your own grief, you didn't even look twice at the autopsy report!"
Arthur’s hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. He wanted to kill her. The urge was a living, breathing monster inside his chest. But death was too easy for her.
"And the child?" Arthur demanded, his voice shaking with a dangerous intensity. "Did you know about the child?"
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Cassandra looked up, genuinely confused for a fraction of a second. "Child? What child? Eleanor didn't have a child."
Arthur stared at her. She wasn't lying about that. She genuinely didn't know. Eleanor had hidden her pregnancy from the world, and even her murderer hadn't known she had left behind an heir.
