Chapter 5 - MRS. STERLING
Victoria Sterling had been dead for eleven years.
At least publicly.
Plane crash.
No survivors.
Closed casket.
The Sterlings apparently had a family tradition of inconvenient dead people.
Julian didn't believe it.
Until Victoria called.
“Hello, darling.”
Julian nearly dropped the phone.
Claire covered her mouth.
Victoria Sterling was alive.
And running Helix Meridian from Switzerland.
Her reason was horrifyingly simple.
Legacy.
She believed medicine, shipping and private data would become more powerful together than organized crime ever was.
Sterling Global provided transportation.
Hospitals provided bodies and data.
Helix provided research.
Richard provided access.
Julian had spent years trying to move the family toward legitimate shipping.
Victoria considered that betrayal.
“You made us ordinary,” she told him.
“I made us legal.”
“Same thing.”
The Newark warehouse contained evidence Julian could have used to expose her.
So it burned.
Richard kept Julian sick afterward because Victoria needed time to move the network.
Claire was supposed to inherit when Julian became permanently incapacitated.
Richard would control Claire.
Victoria would control Richard.
Everybody was somebody else's puppet.
Except the puppets had started cutting strings.
Claire filed for divorce.
Julian froze Helix-linked shipments.
I sent copies of the patient files to federal investigators.
And Eli?
He asked me one question.
“Are we still doing the trial?”
I wanted to say no.
Instead I found an independent oncologist.
We learned his actual treatment was sound.
The theft involved his data, not the therapy itself.
So he continued.
That distinction mattered.
Not every doctor was corrupt.
Not every trial was evil.
We couldn't let monsters make us distrust medicine itself.
Meanwhile Julian's health improved after Mercer's treatments stopped.
Not magically.
His lungs were still damaged.
Some injury would be permanent.
But his decline slowed.
Then reversed enough that he could walk farther.
Sleep better.
Think clearly.
One morning, I found him standing on the balcony without oxygen.
I nearly murdered him.
“What are you doing?”
“Breathing.”
“Poorly.”
“Still counts.”
I pushed the portable unit toward him.
He glared.
I glared harder.
He accepted it.
“Happy?”
“Deeply.”
“You enjoy controlling me.”
“No. I enjoy you remaining alive.”
His expression changed.
Too late.
I had said it.
Something passed between us.
Dangerous.
Quiet.
Julian stepped closer.
“Maya.”
“No.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“Your face did.”
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You're afraid.”
“Of you?”
“Of this.”
He touched my wrist.
Barely.
I should have moved.
I didn't.
Then Knox entered.
“Terrible timing,” Julian muttered.
Knox looked between us.
“I can come back.”
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Julian said.
Knox almost smiled.
Then his expression became serious.
“We found Victoria.”
“Where?”
“New York.”
Claire stared.
“She's here?”
Knox nodded.
“She wants a family meeting.”
Julian laughed without humor.
“Of course she does.”
“Where?”
Knox handed him an envelope.
Inside was an invitation.
Sterling Foundation Winter Benefit.
Three nights away.
Five hundred guests.
Politicians.
Doctors.
Donors.
Press.
Victoria Sterling planned to return from the dead in front of everyone.
May you like
And she wanted her children standing beside her.
---
