Chapter 163
Penelope’s POV
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
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Penelope stood frozen at the head of the boardroom table watching her entire life disintegrate on a projection screen in front of twenty witnesses. The traffic camera footage played in slow motion, showing her Mercedes driving through that intersection fifteen years ago, showing the moment that had haunted her nightmares ever since.
She’d been so careful. Had paid cash for everything, had the car fixed at a shop in Queens that didn’t ask questions, had changed her name and disappeared for months until the investigation went cold. She’d covered every track, eliminated every trace.
Except she’d forgotten about the cameras. The goddamn traffic cameras that were supposed to have been destroyed years ago.
“That footage is inadmissible,” Penelope heard herself saying, though her voice sounded far away and tinny in her own ears. “It’s over fifteen years old and the chain of custody is compromised. You can’t prove anything with that.”
Detective Mitchell smiled and it wasn’t a kind smile. “Actually, we can. The footage has been authenticated by city records and verified by three independent forensic video analysts. Combined with the witness testimony we’ve collected and the body shop records, we have more than enough for an arrest warrant.”
Penelope’s mind was racing, trying to find an angle, a way out, anything that would stop what was happening. “I want my lawyer. I’m not saying another word without my lawyer present.”
“That’s your right. But first we need you to come with us.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Penelope looked around the table at the board members who were all staring at her like she was a stranger. Like she was a monster. “This is a setup. Can’t you see what Marcus is doing? He’s fabricated all of this to remove me from the company.”
“I didn’t fabricate your license plate,” Marcus said quietly. His voice was so calm it made Penelope want to scream. “I didn’t fabricate the body shop records or the witness statements. I didn’t make you get into your car drunk that night and run down my mother and then drive away like she was nothing.”
“I wasn’t drunk. I wasn’t… It was an accident. She stepped out into the street and I didn’t see her in time.”
The words were out before Penelope could stop them. She saw Marcus’s expression shift from calm to something dark and dangerous.
“So you admit it,” he said. “You admit you were driving the car that killed my mother.”
Penelope’s hands were shaking. When had they started shaking? “I… no. I’m not admitting anything. I’m just saying hypothetically, if someone was driving and a person stepped out unexpectedly…”
“You didn’t stop,” Marcus interrupted. His voice was still quiet but there was steel underneath it now. “You hit her and you kept driving. You watched her die in your rearview mirror and you drove away.”
17:03 Mon, May 11 M.
Chapter 163
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“I panicked! Do you know what happens to people who kill someone in a hit-and-run? Prison! My whole life would have been over!”
“My mother’s life was over! She was forty-two years old with a husband and a son who loved her and you took her away from us because you were too much of a coward to face the consequences of your actions!”
Marcus was standing now, his hands pressed flat on the table, his whole body vibrating with barely controlled rage. Penelope took an involuntary step backward.
“And then,” Marcus continued, his voice rising, “you had the audacity to hunt my father. To research him and position yourself to meet him and manipulate him into marrying you less than a year after you murdered his wife. You married into the family you destroyed and you’ve been living off our money and sleeping in our house for fifteen years while pretending to be a grieving widow who loved my father.”
“I did love your father!” The words came out as a shout. Penelope could feel herself losing control, could feel years of careful composure cracking apart. “I know you won’t believe that but it’s true. I loved Richard. What happened to his first wife was a terrible accident but it brought us together and we built a real marriage.”
“Built on a lie. Built on murder.”
“It wasn’t murder! Murder implies intent. I didn’t mean to hit her. I didn’t want her to die.”
Detective Mitchell stepped forward. “Mrs. Thorne, anything you say right now can and will be used against you in court. I strongly advise you to stop talking.”
But Penelope couldn’t stop. Fifteen years of guilt and fear and carefully maintained lies were pouring out of her like poison from a wound.
“You all act like I’m some kind of monster but I was twenty-eight years old and terrified. I made one mistake, one split second of bad judgment, and it’s haunted me every single day since. Do you think I wanted to kill her? Do you think I enjoyed watching the news coverage of her death and seeing her son crying at the funeral?”
“Then why didn’t you turn yourself in?” Morrison asked from his seat. He looked disgusted and horrified in equal measure. “If it was truly an accident, why run?”
“Because I knew no one would believe me! I knew everyone would assume I was drunk or texting or being reckless. The truth is I was just driving home from work and she stepped out between parked cars and I didn’t see her until it was too late.”
“So you fixed your car and changed your identity and went on with your life like nothing happened,” Marcus said flatly.
“What else was I supposed to do? Confess and throw away my entire future for something I couldn’t change? Catherine was already dead. Turning myself in wouldn’t have brought her back.”
“But it would have given my father closure. It would have given him answers instead of spending years wondering why his wife died and who killed her.”
Penelope felt tears burning in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. Crying now would make her look weak, pathetic. “Your father found closure with me. We were happy together, Marcus. Whatever you think about how we met, Richard and I had a real marriage. He loved me.”
17:03 Mon, May 11 M…
Chapter 163
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“He loved a lie. He loved the woman you pretended to be while hiding the fact that you murdered his first wife.”
“I didn’t murder her!” Penelope’s voice cracked. “It was an accident. A tragic, horrible accident that I’ve had to live with every single day for fifteen years.”
“Living with guilt isn’t the same as facing justice,” Detective Mitchell said. She nodded to the two officers who’d been standing by the door. “Mrs. Thorne, we need you to come with us now.”
Penelope looked around the boardroom desperately. These were people she’d worked with, strategized with, some of them she’d considered friends. But now they were all looking at her with varying expressions of shock, disgust, and horror.
Victoria Rodriguez wouldn’t meet her eyes. Morrison looked like he wanted to throw her out the window. The other board members were whispering to each other, already distancing themselves from the scandal.
“You’re all going to regret this,” Penelope said, hearing the desperation in her own voice and hating it. “Marcus is manipulating all of you. He’s using his mother’s death to distract from his own crimes and incompetence. Don’t let him—”
“Ma’am, you need to stop talking and come with us,” one of the officers said, moving toward her.
Penelope backed away until she hit the wall. The exit was on the other side of the room, blocked by the detective and the officers. The windows behind her were forty stories up. There was nowhere to go.
“I want my lawyer,” she said again. “I’m not saying anything else until I speak to my lawyer.”
“You can call your lawyer from the station,” Detective Mitchell said. “Right now we need you to put your hands behind your back.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I have rights. You can’t just arrest me based on fifteen-year-old footage and circumstantial evidence.”
“We have an arrest warrant signed by a judge. We absolutely can arrest you.” The detective’s voice was patient but firm. “You can come willingly or we can use handcuffs. Your choice.”
Penelope’s eyes darted to the door. If she could just get past them, if she could make it to the elevator, she could disappear. She had money in offshore accounts, had contacts in countries with no extradition treaties. She could run like she’d run before.
She took a step toward the door.
“Don’t,” Marcus said quietly. “Security has already locked down the building. Every exit is blocked. There’s nowhere for you to go, Penelope. It’s over.”
The officers moved closer and Penelope felt her back pressing against the window. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst through her chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. She was supposed to win. Marcus was supposed to be the one being led out in disgrace, not her.
“Penelope Thorne,” Detective Mitchell said formally, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. “You’re under arrest for vehicular manslaughter and murder in the death of Catherine Thorne.”
17:03 Mon, May 11 M…
