Chapter 12 - The Reckoning in Room 402
The heavy oak door of Room 402 swung open again less than ten minutes later, not with the quiet caution of a nurse, but with the violent shove of a desperate man.
Sterling Kane strode into the room, his dark suit jacket rumpled, his slicked-back dark hair slightly disheveled. The polished, smug veneer was entirely gone, replaced by a raw, unhinged fury that made his jaw twitch. He stopped dead in his tracks five feet from the bed, his eyes darting from the federal marshals stationed in the doorway to Everett standing tall beside the mattress.
"You," Sterling hissed, pointing a shaking finger at Everett. "This isn't over. You can't lock me out of my own family's company. I built those portfolios while you were playing CEO in your ivory tower."
"You embezzled from them, Sterling," Everett said, his voice terrifyingly calm as he stepped forward, towering over his cousin. "And you forged audit documents to frame me for bankruptcy while I was lying unconscious in a chapel."
"I saved this family from ruin!" Sterling screamed, lunging forward before two federal marshals stepped in, grabbing his arms and forcing him back against the wall with a sharp click of steel handcuffs. "You're a ghost, Everett! You died on that altar!"
"I was never more alive than when Willa said yes," Everett replied, his voice dropping into a low, resonant register that vibrated through the quiet room. He walked right up to Sterling, looking down into his panicked face with absolute indifference. "And she is my legal wife, my corporate proxy, and the woman who uncovered every single crime you tried to pin on me."
Sterling struggled against the cuffs, his face turning a dark, mottled crimson as the marshals hauled him toward the exit. "You'll regret this! Both of you! You're destroying the Kane name!"
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"The Kane name is finally clean," Everett said quietly as the heavy door slammed shut behind the marshals, cutting off Sterling's frantic shouts down the hallway.
The room grew instantly quiet again. The harsh tension that had gripped us since the wedding chapel evaporated, leaving only the steady hum of the medical monitors and the soft, natural light of the moon streaming through the tall hospital window.
