Chapter 71: Sabotage
Anna's POV
The house feels different with Marcus's dad in the hospital.
Quieter—but not peaceful.
It’s the kind of quiet that hums with unfinished conversations and unanswered questions, like the walls themselves are holding their breath. For the last three days, Marcus’s living room has become a war room. Legal pads litter the coffee table. Laptops sit open, tabs multiplying faster than we can close them. News headlines scroll endlessly on muted television screens, all variations of the same crisis.
McKay Enterprises stock continues to fall.
Investigation widens.
Athlete remains comatose—family demands accountability.
Marcus sits in the armchair closest to the window, his injured leg elevated, jaw tight as he scrolls through emails from board members who suddenly remember he exists. Damian paces near the kitchen island, phone pressed to his ear more often than not, switching between lawyers, auditors, and internal contacts who don’t yet know which side they’re on. Peter has taken over logistics—tracking timelines, compiling documents, flagging inconsistencies with surprising focus for someone who usually thrives in chaos.
Courtney and I are here because they asked us to be.
Not as girlfriends. Not as moral support. As thinkers.
“How did this get past quality control?” Courtney asks, tapping her pen against a spreadsheet on her laptop. “I’m looking at inspection logs from the last two years. There’s a pattern.”
Damian stops pacing. “What kind of pattern?”
“Rushed approvals,” she replies. “Sign-offs happening faster than standard review times. Sometimes on weekends.”
My stomach tightens. “That’s not normal.”
“No,” Marcus says quietly. “It’s not.”
I lean forward, eyes scanning the documents Damian just slid across the table. “This doesn’t feel like negligence,” I say slowly. “It feels… intentional.”
The word hangs in the air.
Peter looks up sharply. “You’re saying sabotage.”
“I’m saying,” I correct carefully, “that someone wanted something to fail.”
Damian exhales through his nose. “Dad would never—”
“No,” I interrupt gently. “Not your father.”
Silence settles again, heavier this time. We all hear the knock at the same moment. Three sharp raps against the front door.
Marcus looks up at Damian, frowning. “Were you expecting anyone?”
He shakes his head. “Unless subpoenas knock now, no.”
Damian moves toward the door cautiously, glancing back at us once before opening it.
Bella stands on the porch. Flanked by her sisters.
They’re dressed simply—no polished gala looks, no carefully curated confidence. Bella’s hair is pulled back, her expression unreadable. Her sisters hover close, eyes darting past Damian into the house.
The air changes instantly.
Marcus’s body stiffens. I feel it from across the room.
“What do you want?” Damian asks flatly.
Bella lifts her hands slightly, palms open. “We heard about your father.”
Peter snorts. “Touching.”
Bella ignores him. "We heard he’s in the hospital. Despite everything… we didn’t want to pretend we didn’t know.”
I stand slowly, positioning myself beside Marcus without thinking.
“And?” I ask.
Bella’s gaze flicks to me. Something complicated passes through her eyes—not hostility exactly. Something closer to tension.
“And,” she says, “we think we can help.”
Courtney arches a brow. “This should be good.”
Damian hesitates, then steps aside just enough to let them in. “You have five minutes.”
They enter, the door closing softly behind them. Bella doesn’t sit. Neither do her sisters. They stand like they’re bracing for impact.
“How?” Marcus asks finally, his voice calm but edged. “How exactly do you think you can help?”
Bella takes a breath.
“I overheard my father,” she says.
That gets everyone’s attention.
“Two weeks ago,” she continues. “In his home office. He thought no one was around.”
Peter folds his arms. “Your father was at our father's office before he collapsed.”
“Yes,” Bella says sharply.
My heart starts to race.
“What did you hear?” I ask.
Bella’s jaw tightens. “I heard him talking to someone about timing. About pressure points. About how the best way to take over McKay Enterprises wasn’t through a clean acquisition—but by ruining its reputation first.”
The room goes dead silent.
Courtney’s pen slips from her fingers and clatters onto the table.
“You’re saying,” Damian says slowly, dangerously, “that your father orchestrated this.”
Bella nods once. “I think he did.”
Marcus’s hand tightens on the armrest. “That’s a serious accusation.”
“I know,” Bella replies. “Which is why I haven’t said it out loud until now.”
Her sister Portia speaks up for the first time. “We’ve known for years that our father cuts corners. That he manipulates markets. That he destroys competitors quietly.”
“Not quietly enough,” Peter mutters.
Bella presses on. “The faulty equipment? The rushed approvals? Those weren’t accidents. Ramsey Holdings has subsidiaries that specialize in manufacturing oversight—consulting firms that ‘assist’ companies like yours.”
Courtney’s fingers fly over her keyboard. “Wait. Say that again.”
Bella repeats the company name.
Courtney’s eyes widen. “That firm signed off on at least three of the batches under investigation.”
Damian swears under his breath.
Marcus looks pale now—not from fear, but from fury held tightly in check. “If this is true…”
“It would mean,” I finish quietly, “that McKay Enterprises was set up.”
Bella nods. “That’s what I believe.”
“And you’re telling us this because…?” Damian asks.
Bella meets his gaze. “Because I’m done pretending my father is untouchable.”
Her voice wavers for the first time.
“And because,” she adds, glancing briefly at Marcus, “whatever else I’ve done wrong—I didn’t want this.”
The silence that follows is thick, complicated.
Courtney breaks it first. “Do you have proof?”
Bella hesitates. “Not directly. But I know where to look.”
Peter straightens. “Where?”
“My father’s private server,” Bella says. “He keeps recordings. Logs. Deals he thinks are buried deep enough to never surface.”
Damian’s expression hardens. “You’re asking us to trust you.”
“I know,” Bella replies. “And I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”
I study her—really study her. The girl who once wielded cruelty like currency. The daughter of a man who may have destroyed lives without blinking.
And yet—
“I believe you,” I say quietly.
Everyone turns toward me.
“Anna—” Marcus starts.
“I believe that you overheard something real,” I continue. “And I believe that telling us this wasn’t easy.”
Bella looks at me like she doesn’t know what to do with that.
Courtney nods slowly. “If their father orchestrated this, exposing it doesn’t just save McKay Enterprises. It stops him from doing it again.”
Damian exhales. “This changes everything.”
“Yes,” I say. “Which is why we need to be careful.”
Marcus looks up at Bella. “If you’re lying—”
“I’m not,” she says immediately. “And I’ll prove it.”
The room feels like it’s on the edge of something enormous. For the first time since this disaster began, there’s a new possibility in the air. Not just survival. Truth.
I reach for Marcus’s hand, grounding us both.
Whatever happens next—whatever this uncovers—I know one thing with absolute certainty:
The story we’ve been fed is not the whole story. And the people who tried to control it are starting to lose their grip.