Winston’s heart plummeted.
The fake smile on his face froze, and he shot a nervous glance at the office door, mind racing through the possibilities.
Who had she called in?
Security?
A lawyer?
Or—
The office door swung open.
When he saw who walked in, Winston’s eyes went wide with shock. Disbelief was written all over his face.
“Serena?! What are you doing here?!”
His voice cracked with surprise, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.
He whipped his head toward Gwyneth, then back to Serena, completely thrown off balance.
Hadn’t she already handed him the flash drive yesterday?
Unless…
Gwyneth watched every flicker of panic cross his face, her lips curling into a cold, mocking smile.
She took her time, opening a drawer and pulling out a black flash drive, which she tossed carelessly onto the desk. It landed with a sharp click.
“Is this what you’re looking for, Uncle?”
Her voice was almost playful, but the words hit Winston like a sledgehammer.
“The real drive’s been right here all along. The one you have? Just a worthless copy.”
Winston stared at the drive on the desk, his mind flashing back to the one Serena had given him yesterday. In that instant, everything became clear.
He’d been played.
His own daughter and niece had set him up—together.
His face flushed a deep red. Pointing a trembling finger at Serena, he shook with rage.
“You… You! You little snakes! You actually teamed up to screw me over?!”
The mask of courtesy he’d worn for years shattered, replaced by the snarl of a cornered animal. He lunged at Serena, hand raised to strike.
“You traitorous brat! I’ll make you pay!”
But his blow never landed.
Gwyneth, utterly composed, clapped her hands twice.
The office door burst open. Two burly security guards—who’d clearly been waiting outside—stormed in. Before Winston could react, they pinned his arms behind his back and immobilized him with practiced efficiency.
“Let go of me! Who do you think you are? I’m with the Fletcher family!”
Winston thrashed and roared, but he was no match for the guards. He looked utterly ridiculous—pathetic, even—in their iron grip.
Serena gazed at her father, now reduced to a struggling, wild-eyed wreck. Any trace of the fear or forbearance she once felt was gone.
Gwyneth had already compiled evidence of Winston’s embezzlement, corporate theft, and his attempts to steal trade secrets. She’d sent it all straight to the police.
Now, the law would deal with him.
In the hush that followed, only Gwyneth and Serena remained in the office.
The air was thick with the aftermath of family betrayal and reckoning; neither spoke, each lost in the turmoil of what had just unfolded.
Then, a soft thud broke the silence.
They both turned. A phone had fallen to the carpet near where Winston had struggled—a phone that must have slipped from his pocket as he was dragged away.
Its screen lit up from the impact, showing an incoming call.
On the display, the caller’s name flashed in bold letters: SQ.
Serena and Gwyneth’s eyes met, both frowning in confusion.
SQ?
Who was that?
Serena, curiosity getting the better of her, pressed the answer button.
“Hello? Babe? Is it done?”
The voice was unmistakable. Gwyneth recognized it instantly.
Queenie!

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