The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 404

Chapter 404

She pulled up a slide on the screen behind her. Medical terminology I barely understood, but the

conclusion was clear enough: Chronic arsenic poisoning. Consistent with regular ingestion of small

doses over approximately three to four months. Caused multi–organ failure culminating in cardiac

arrest.

“The poison was administered slowly,” Ms. Reeves continued. “Small enough doses that it mimicked

natural illness. Subtle enough that the attending physicians at the time missed it. But the evidence

is in Elizabeth Harper’s tissues, her hair, her fingernails–everywhere that arsenic leaves its

signature. She was murdered. And the question before this court is: who administered the poison?”

She turned back to me. “Miss Harper, did you recover any evidence pointing to the source of the

arsenic?”

I nodded, pulling out my phone. “I found emails between Victoria Harper and Eugene Foster—the

man she was having an affair with during my mother’s illness. Mr. Foster worked for an agricultural

chemical company. He had access to arsenic–based compounds.”

The emails appeared on the screen. Cryptic messages about “handling the problem” and “the old way

of dealing with competition.” References to “packages” being delivered. And damning bank records

showing Victoria had paid Eugene Foster nearly $200,000 in the year of my mother’s death.

“Thank you, Miss Harper.” Ms. Reeves returned to her seat, and I braced myself for the cross-

examination.

But I never expected what happened next.

My father’s lawyer stood, smoothing his tie with the kind of calculated precision that probably took years to perfect. “Your Honor, before we proceed with cross–examination, my client would like to

make a statement.”

The judge frowned. “This is highly irregular, Mr. Morrison.”

“Nevertheless, Your Honor, my client insists.”

A beat of tense silence. Then: “Very well. But keep it brief.”

III

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My father stood slowly, his chains—a requirement for murder defendants, even those out on bail-

clinking softly. He turned not to the judge or jury, but to Victoria.

“This is your fault,” he said flatly.

Victoria’s head snapped up. “William-”

“You convinced me!” His voice rose, cracking with barely controlled fury. “You said Elizabeth would

never let us be together. That she’d destroy me in the divorce, take Aria away, ruin everything I’d

built. You said it was the only way!”

“I never-” Victoria stood, her face pale with shock. “Your Honor, this is a blatant attempt to—”

“You brought me the poison!” My father was shouting now, years of careful control shattering like

glass. “You said it was untraceable, that no one would ever know! You put it in her food every single

day, and you told me I was protecting our family!”

The courtroom erupted. Victoria’s lawyer was on his feet, objecting strenuously. The judge

hammered his gavel, demanding order. And in the middle of it all, Victoria and my father began

screaming at each other, all pretense of dignity abandoned.

“You’re the one who wanted her dead!” Victoria shrieked. “You’re the one who said your life would be

so much better without her! I was just—”

“-the one who put poison in her tea!” my father roared back. “The one who smiled at her funeral

while knowing you’d killed her! The one who married me six months later like you’d been waiting for

it!”

“I did it for you! For us! For Scarlett! So we could finally be a real family!”

“A family?! You’re a murderer! A cold–blooded-”

The gavel came down with a force that shook the courtroom. “ENOUGH!”

The judge’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade “Mr. Harper, Mrs. Harper, you will compose yourselves immediately or I will have you both removed and proceed in absentia. Do I make myself

clear?”

They subsided, both breathing hard, glaring at each other with open hatred. Whatever alliance had

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once existed between them–whatever twisted love or mutual benefit–had just immolated itself in

front of three dozen witnesses and a courtroom full of cameras.

I sat in the witness box, watching the implosion with a strange detachment. This was what I’d

wanted, wasn’t it? To destroy them. To make them pay for what they’d done to my mother, to me, to

any chance at a normal life.

So why did I just feel… empty?

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