The tension in the room was almost tangible, the air thick with accusation and unease. Michael's heart thudded heavily in his chest; each beat a reminder that he needed to maintain his composure and control. But doubt clawed at his mind. He couldn't help wondering how much they knew, and the uncertainty gnawed at him. Was it possible they knew everything? What exactly did Derek mean by "everything"? Did Evelyn tell them about her suspicions regarding him and Sandra? Did she reveal Sandra's drugging? Michael mused, wondering how to save himself from the wreckage of his ambition. Desperately, he adopted a facade of confusion, forcing his face into a mask of disbelief.

"What are you talking about?" he managed, his voice laced with incredulity, though a tremor remained.

Derek ignored the question, lacking the time or desire to entertain such foolishness. Unmoved by Michael's feigned ignorance, Derek retrieved his phone, scrolled through it, and located the footage of Michael in his office. He then picked up the television remote and connected his phone to the TV, without glancing at Michael.

He decided to show Michael the video; it would be the perfect response, proving they were onto him. He didn't have time for a verbal sparring match.

As Derek set up the video, Michael turned to Rebecca, his eyes searching her face for any sign of leniency, any softening of her gaze that might suggest he wasn't completely doomed.

"Aunt what—"

"Shut your mouth, Michael!" Her voice, cold and sharp, cut him off. Rising, Rebecca glared at him with a fury he'd never witnessed, her chest heaving with barely contained rage. "How dare you call me your aunt? How dare you look me in the eye and lie to me so brazenly for so long?" she demanded, her voice breaking with betrayal. "I treated you like my own son. I trusted you, believed in you—and this is how you repay me?" Rebecca yelled, ignoring her husband's attempts to calm her. The venom in her words drained the color from Michael's face. Panic clawed at his chest, and he shifted uncomfortably, resisting the urge to flee.

He tried to make sense of it all, his mind scrambling. How much did they know to cause such outrage? Did they know about his relationship with Sandra? Or had they discovered his role in the scandal surrounding Derek's adoption? His breathing grew shallow as he realized his lies were unraveling. Then, the television screen flickered to life. Michael's heart plummeted as he watched himself on screen, moving about Derek's office, reaching under the table, and removing the bug he'd planted. Horror crept through him like ice.

"This is a misunderstanding" he stammered, but his words were cut short by a stinging slap to his cheek, delivered with the full force of Rebecca's contempt.

"One more lie, a business just so that you could set Evelyn up? How could you be so callous?" Her voice trembled, the pain evident. "I swear, Michael—I will forget you're my nephew and have you arrested right here, right now." Her voice was a low growl, her eyes ablaze with anger and disappointment. "How dare you exploit our family for your twisted games? How dare you expose my family—"

"Aunt, it's not what you think," he murmured, clutching his throbbing cheek, his voice faltering. He was trapped, struggling for words that might salvage his dignity—or his freedom.

"Not what I think?" she repeated, her voice rising as she slapped his other cheek. "What is not what I think? Is it the fact that you leaked our family's private matters to the public, or the fact that you've been in a relationship with Sandra for all these years, yet had the audacity to convince me she'd be a good fit for Derek, just so you both could do to Derek what you planned to do to Evelyn?" Her voice cracked with rage as she looked at him with disgust, while Derek and his father watched. Michael's mind spun, struggling to process everything. They knew everything. How? How did they know what he'd done to Evelyn?

His gaze flicked to Derek. When had he planted the camera? Did that mean the conversation between Sandra and the hitman was from Sandra's phone? Had they bugged his phone, too? How long had Derek been suspicious? Had he known about his relationship with Sandra from the beginning? Had he been playing along, leading Sandra on while knowing the truth? Had he simply been waiting for the right moment to strike? A wave of nausea washed over him as he realized the extent of his exposed plan.

Derek's voice cut through his thoughts. "Are you going to deny all of that, too, Michael?" His tone was laced with barely controlled fury, daring Michael to lie again.

Michael's heart raced as he stood with his head bowed in shame. He couldn't bear to look at any of them.

"We trusted you with everything, Michael," Derek's father said, his voice quieter but no less condemning. "We treated you like family, gave you opportunities, put faith in you. And you betrayed us." His gaze was cold, contrasting the warmth Michael once found in his uncle's eyes. "And to think you even went as far as to embezzle money from the company" A chill washed over Michael, and his mouth dropped open. They knew that, too. He could barely stand, the guilt and shame overwhelming him. He fell to his knees. Derek's father shook his head, his lips curled in disgust.

"Sorry?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Are you sorry for trying to manipulate my wife into forcing Derek to marry your mistress? Or is it for lying against Evelyn all these years? Which part, exactly, are you sorry for, Michael?"

"Perhaps he's sorry for planning to impregnate Sandra and make me a father to his child. Or maybe he's sorry for stealing from the company. I'm sure he didn't mean it. Or he's just sorry for getting caught. Which is it, Michael?" Derek asked harshly. Michael opened his mouth to answer, but no words came. His mind was blank, drowning in the weight of his betrayal. Every crime hung in the air, the walls themselves seeming to bear witness to his disgrace.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, meeting Rebecca's steely gaze, a silent plea for forgiveness in his eyes. But her expression made it clear that forgiveness was impossible.

"Your apologies mean nothing now," Derek's father declared, his tone final. "The only reason you're here is because we found out Sandra plans to dispose of you. If Evelyn wasn't also her target, and it was up to me, I'd let Sandra have her way. Frankly, someone like you deserves to be stabbed in the back. You're only lucky your aunt had a say."

"I know nothing I say will make up for what I've done. I'm sorry, Aunt. I'm sorry, Uncle. Please forgive me. Derek, I'm sorry," Michael said, his face falling to the ground.

"Greed and foolishness is what came over you," Rebecca sneered.

"Make no mistake, Michael, you're going to pay for your crimes. I don't care that you're my wife's nephew. You stole from the company, and you will be made an example of," Derek's father said, and Derek nodded in agreement.

"We called you here to give you a chance to make sure you don't go down alone. Are you willing to play along so we can get that little devil put away before she hurts Evelyn, or would you rather go to jail alone?" Derek asked harshly.

"Why do you care about Evelyn? She has someone else…"

"That is not your concern," Derek said coldly.

Although Derek was tempted to reveal that he was Evelyn's child's father, he didn't trust Michael enough to risk it. He wasn't taking any chances with Sandra. "I'm giving you one chance, Michael," he repeated, his eyes blazing. "One chance to fix the problem your greed has caused us."

He looked at his aunt; he wanted to ask if they would forgive him if he helped them capture Sandra, but one look at her face told him she'd likely kill him if he dared. Michael knew he had little choice, yet a plan began to form—a way to buy time and escape. He knew no matter what he said or did, they would never forgive him. He was going to lose his job, his place in the family, and even his freedom. He decided to pretend to cooperate and then run.

But before he could fully formulate his plan, Derek leaned in, as though reading his mind. "Don't even think about running or going after Sandra yourself. I will be watching. And if you mess this up, there won't be a second chance. I will kill you myself if I have to. Don't test me." Michael swallowed hard, feeling trapped. He nodded slowly, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll do whatever you want me to do. Anything," he said, the words hollow, each one a nail in the coffin of his ambition.