Laura steadied herself, the twins nestled against her chest, their tiny hands clutching each other’s shirts.
“You thought I was a thief,” she said, voice hoarse but fierce, “but I was the only one who could get close enough.”
She lifted the locket from Grant’s hand, the engraved initials glinting under the fluorescent light.
“They wanted my children,” Laura whispered, eyes locking onto Grant’s, “the leader of the syndicate is his own son, the twins’ father.”
Grant stared at the photograph, the realization a cold knife in his gut.
“All those deals, the shipments… I was financing my own betrayal.”
Serena sank onto a battered chair, tears spilling onto the worn carpet.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I never wanted any of this.”
Laura placed a trembling hand on Grant’s shoulder.
“Now we end it,” she said, resolve hardening in her gaze, “together.”
