Chapter 185 Efrain and Anna Unmasked
Efrain had no idea what was really happening on the other end of the line.
After a brief call with one of his lean, sharp-faced operatives, he had convinced himself that Scarface and his crew were already en route back to Celestria, ferrying Michael's grandmother under heavy watch. In his mind, the plan was moving like clockwork. He hadn't bothered to wait until morning, hadn't even considered going down to the docks to confirm the arrival. Patience was never his virtue. He wanted to savor the moment now.
What he craved was the sight—or at least the sound—of Michael losing his composure. Michael was known for being unshakably calm, the kind of man who could walk through fire without breaking stride. Efrain wanted to hear that mask crack. And now, judging by the reaction he was hearing, he believed he had succeeded.
"Let's stop pretending," Efrain's voice came through the speaker, dripping with smug satisfaction. "I'll give it to you straight. Your grandmother… is in my hands."
There was a sharp intake of breath on Michael's end, the kind of sound that suggested anger barely contained beneath a thin layer of control.
That sound pleased Efrain. Leaning back in the leather chair behind his desk, he lit a cigar, watching smoke curl lazily upward. Every draw seemed to solidify his confidence.
"Michael, no matter what's happened between us, I'm still your uncle," he said slowly, savoring each word. "If you hadn't forced me out of the board all those years ago—if you hadn't made it so damned final—we wouldn't be here now."
"You know her condition as well as I do. Even if she stayed safe in that Sulien care facility, with her illness… she wouldn't last more than a few months."
He paused, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling. "I took her away to save her. After all, she is my stepmother."
Michael's reply was low, cold, stripped of anything that might pass for warmth. "So I should thank you for sending men halfway across the world to abduct her from her bed?"
"Of course," Efrain said without missing a beat, a smile audible in his voice. "Her illness—primary pulmonary hypertension—you know the prognosis better than I do. There's no cure. Targeted therapy can slow it, but not stop it."
His tone shifted, becoming almost conversational. "I'm sure you know Anna, CEO of The Williams Group. She's close to the head of a foreign biotech institute. That institute has just developed a cell regeneration drug—SDRS—that can treat your grandmother's condition."
"And that drug," Efrain said, pausing for effect, "is in my possession."
Michael's voice was like steel scraping against stone. "I didn't realize you were so well acquainted with Ms. Williams. What do you really want? Say it."
"I like that you're direct," Efrain said with a chuckle. "So I'll be direct too. You agree to two conditions, and I'll return your grandmother to you. I'll make sure she gets the treatment. She could live another two years, maybe more."
"What conditions?" Michael asked flatly.
"You've been in Sulien, so maybe you haven't heard the news back home. Today at noon, Vaughn Williams—Anna's grandfather—fell overboard during a cruise. They haven't found him. The rescue teams are still searching, but you know as well as I do… after this much time, he's gone. The sea doesn't give back what it takes."
"Anna plans to hold a press conference in two days. Saturday, noon. I want you to stand beside her and announce two things."
"First, that you and Anna have been engaged for some time, but kept it private. That, to honor Vaughn's dying wish, you will be formally betrothed this month."
"Second, that upon your engagement, you will transfer half of the Johnson Group's shares to me—along with the chairman's seat and full control of the company."
Efrain's voice was smooth, almost gentle, but the undertone was pure threat. "Agree to this. Sign the transfer paperwork after the press conference. Your grandmother and the drug will be yours."
"And once you're married, the medication will arrive at the Johnson mansion every month. She'll be cared for."
"But if you refuse…" His laugh was low, icy. "Then you'll never see her again. Not alive."
"Think it over, Michael."
With that, Efrain ended the call. No further words. In his mind, the game was already won. He had laid out the terms, and now all that remained was for Michael to weigh the cost.
The speakerphone had carried every syllable into the room, each one sinking like lead into the air between Michael, Amelia, and Vaughn.
All three frowned, the tension palpable.
Efrain's mention of Vaughn's fall didn't shock them. What struck deeper was the confirmation of Anna's alliance with Efrain. Amelia had tried to reassure Vaughn earlier—maybe it wasn't Anna behind the attempt on his life. But now, with Efrain's words, there was no doubt.
And the press conference… the two conditions… they were worse than a public humiliation. He wanted Michael to stand before the world and declare his intent to marry Anna, then hand over half the company.
Amelia's mind moved quickly, stitching together the threads. She spoke with precision, her voice cutting through the room.
"So… your grandmother's abduction from the care facility, and Vaughn being pushed into the sea today—both were Efrain's doing."
"He knew Anna had access to the drug. He took your grandmother back to the mainland, struck a deal with her. He lined up the assassin for Mr. Williams. Anna handed over the drug."
"And now he's using your grandmother's life to force you into giving him control of the Johnson Group. With Vaughn gone, Anna would hold full sway over The Williams Group. And she'd be your wife."
Her eyes locked on Michael's. "Efrain has tried to kill you before. Remember the rare herb in your pillow? If you hand him the shares, he won't stop. He'll find another way to finish the job."
"And if you marry Anna, she'll be his eyes and ears in your home. If you die, she inherits everything."
Her tone was colder now, almost surgical. "It's the perfect arrangement. Two people, each getting exactly what they want. No one loses."
A single phone call, and Amelia had dismantled their plan piece by piece, laying bare every motive, every consequence.
The realization was chilling. If Michael's grandmother hadn't been recovered today, he would have been cornered, forced to choose between her life and his company.
And if Vaughn had truly drowned, no one would know he had been pushed. Anna's crime—ordering the death of her own grandfather—would vanish beneath the waves forever.
It was a plan crafted with precision. Ruthless. Elegant in its cruelty.
Amelia almost felt like applauding their ingenuity.