Chapter 8 - THE POLICY
The policy was not life insurance.
That almost made it worse.
Bellamy Manufacturing maintained key-shareholder disability coverage.
If one of the principal family shareholders suffered a qualifying permanent disability, the policy could fund a forced buyout of that shareholder’s interest.
Mom had established it years earlier.
I never paid attention.
Neither had Vanessa.
Derek had.
If my injury caused permanent visual impairment, Bellamy’s insurers could trigger negotiations to buy my shares.
The exact result depended on medical findings and board action.
But Derek did not need certainty.
He needed leverage.
“He aimed at my eye.”
I said.
Marissa did not correct me.
Derek’s text had chosen my left side.
The modified cannon carried metal fragments.
A photograph documented my eye before the blast.
And an email mentioned an after photograph.
“He wanted permanent damage.”
I whispered.
Marissa remained careful.
“That’s what investigators are trying to prove.”
I thought of Vanessa pulling my hand away.
Open your eye and stop embarrassing me.
Had she wanted a photograph?
The realization made me nauseous.
I called her attorney.
I demanded to speak with my sister.
Vanessa refused at first.
Then agreed.
We met at the police station.
She looked smaller without wedding makeup.
“I didn’t know about the insurance.”
she said immediately.
“But you knew he wanted a picture.”
Her face changed.
“What?”
“You tried to pull my hand away.”
“I thought you were being dramatic.”
“Did Derek tell you to make sure my face was visible afterward?”
She looked down.
“Vanessa.”
“Yes.”
The word barely came out.
“He said we needed to show everybody you were okay.”
“Why?”
“He told me you might sue us.”
“So he wanted proof.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Did he take a photograph?”
She nodded.
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“In the bathroom hallway.”
I remembered stumbling toward the restroom.
Vanessa followed.
I thought she was checking on me.
Instead, she held up her phone once.
I had turned away.
The image still existed.
Police recovered it from recently deleted files.
My hand covered my eye.
Blood showed beneath my fingers.
Silver confetti covered my hair and dress.
The timestamp was six minutes after the blast.
Vanessa stared at the photograph.
Then began crying.
“I didn’t know.”
I believed one part.
She had not understood the entire plan.
But she had understood enough to help him hurt me.
That distinction mattered.
Before leaving, Vanessa whispered something.
“Derek kept saying the company would belong to us.”
I stopped.
“Us?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“That’s what I thought he meant.”
“But two nights before the wedding, I heard him tell Victor something else.”
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“What?”
“He said once Bellamy sold, he wouldn’t need me anymore.”
