The reporters went silent.
Calloway stopped moving.
Margot continued.
“Black Harbor was his kingdom. We were all pieces. Jonathan Ashford was not innocent, but he tried to stop it. Thomas Calloway made sure he paid with his son.”
Celeste covered her mouth.
Calloway whispered, “Turn it off.”
No one did.
The video shifted.
A hidden recording.
Calloway’s younger voice: “The boy is insurance. Vivienne signed. Jonathan will never risk scandal. Keep him alive. Educate him. One day, blood controls blood.”
My mother made a sound of pure rage.
Nathaniel pulled away from her, staring at Calloway.
“You knew who I was,” he said.
Calloway turned.
The old charm returned to his face by instinct.
“My boy—”
“I was never yours.”
Calloway’s mask cracked.
Police entered then. Real police, federal agents, people with badges that even Calloway’s name could not bend now that the whole world was watching.
