Chapter 250
Lance
I let the silence stretch for exactly three heartbeats after my admission. Long enough for Thomas to savor what he thought was victory. Long enough for Arthur's disappointment to settle into his bones. Long enough for Eleanor to wonder if I'd truly lost my mind.
Then I crossed my legs, leaning back in the uncomfortable metal chair as if it were a throne, and let my smile widen into something that belonged in a boardroom, not an interrogation room.
"Well," I said, drawing out the word with deliberate laziness. "First of all, let's clarify something fundamental. Anything that happens within the Lawson family is, by definition, every Lawson's business. So naturally, the attack concerns me. How could it not?"
I watched Thomas's triumphant expression falter slightly, confusion creeping in at the edges.
"And furthermore," I continued, my voice taking on an almost conversational quality, "wanting to deal with Felix and Thomas has always been my expectation. On a corporate level, certainly. But also—" I paused, letting my gaze drift to Thomas with deliberate slowness, "—on a deeply personal level. Years of accumulated grievances, you understand."
Arthur's face had gone from wounded to bewildered. Eleanor had stopped mid-breath, her eyes narrowing as she tried to parse where I was going with this. And Thomas leaned forward almost imperceptibly, his breathing shallow with anticipation, like a predator watching its prey step closer to the trap.
"As for Wesley's kidnapping attempt?" I shrugged one shoulder, the picture of casual approval. "Of course I wholeheartedly endorsed that action. It aligned perfectly with my wishes. So yes, Chief Calloway, you're absolutely correct—this matter is intimately connected to me. How could it not be?"
The room went very still.
Eleanor was shaking her head now, subtle movements that said what are you doing? Arthur looked like he was developing a migraine, one hand rising to massage his temple. But Thomas—Thomas had stopped pretending entirely. His face lit up like a man who'd just won the lottery.
"So you're saying—" he leaned forward, barely able to contain himself, "—you're saying you ordered them to do it?"
I let my smile vanish in an instant, replaced by something colder and infinitely more precise.
"No."
The single syllable landed like a gunshot.
"I'm saying Wesley's actions had my approval. That they fulfilled my long-held wishes. That I found them—" I paused, choosing my words with surgical care, "—deeply satisfying. But approval and orchestration are very different things, Uncle. What I've described is simply a beautiful hope. A fervent desire, if you will."
I leaned forward now, my voice dropping to something quieter but no less cutting.
"There is no substantive evidence proving I was the mastermind behind anything. None whatsoever."
Thomas's face went through a fascinating transformation—from elation to fury in the span of a heartbeat. He whipped around to face Calloway, his voice sharp with frustration.
"Calloway! Please re-present the evidence to him. These are eyewitness testimonies—"
The chief cut in smoothly, though I caught the slight tightness around his eyes. "That's right. Black and white. Multiple witnesses, all corroborating the same story. Even if you weren't the primary perpetrator of the kidnapping, you're still an accessory. If you simply admit your involvement—" he spread his hands in a gesture meant to seem reasonable, "—we can handle this appropriately. You won't be locked up for long. We can work out a deal—"
I couldn't help it. Laughter spilled out of me, sharp and genuine.
"Grandfather, do you see this?" I gestured toward Calloway without taking my eyes off Arthur. "This is how Thomas's good friend interrogates suspects. By trying every angle to make innocent people confess. By inducing them to accept jail time."
I turned my attention to Thomas, letting my amusement show.
"And Uncle? I thought you came here to help me. Turns out you're hoping I'll plead guilty?"
Thomas's face flushed an interesting shade of red. He recovered quickly, his voice going cold and righteous.
"Of course I want you to be innocent!" Thomas's voice carried just the right note of wounded righteousness. "But the law is the law, Lance. If you're truly guilty and we shield you from consequences, our already fragile company won't just struggle—it will collapse. Completely. Irreversibly."