“This is a misunderstanding,” he said. “Charlotte is unstable. She needs medical help.”
Charlotte slowly stood.
She was no longer trembling.
Her maternity dress was wrinkled. Her makeup had run. Her face was wet with tears.
But her eyes were hard as steel.
“Unstable?” she asked.
She touched the center diamond.
“Then I suppose all two hundred witnesses downstairs are unstable too.”
Ethan looked at the necklace.
Understanding hit him like a fall into darkness.
“No…”
“Yes,” Charlotte said. “You’ve been live for several minutes.”
Vanessa screamed and covered her face.
The elegant widow was gone.
All that remained was panic.
Ethan lost control.
“You set me up!”
He lunged toward Charlotte.
Toward her stomach.
Grant moved first.
He tackled Ethan before he could reach her. Ethan hit the Persian rug, shouting, as two officers pinned him down.
The gold pen rolled across the floor and stopped near Charlotte’s feet.
She looked at it.
Minutes earlier, it was supposed to steal her company.
Now it looked pathetic.
Downstairs, chaos erupted.
Guests made phone calls.
Reporters took notes.
Board members demanded answers.
Dr. Whitman, the psychiatrist who had signed the false commitment papers, tried to escape through the kitchen but was caught near the back entrance.
The family attorney immediately turned over copies of the forged documents.
