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HE KICKED HIS OWN MOTHER FOR A TRUST FUND—But He Didn't Know Who I Actually Was. / Chapter 3 / 6

Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Machine

I woke up to the steady, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. The sterile smell of a hospital room filled my senses. For a moment, I thought I was back in time, three months ago, before the nightmare began.

“You gave us a scare, Eleanor,” a voice said from the corner of the room.

I turned my head slowly. Standing there wasn't Agent Vance. It was Arthur Bellamy—Vanessa’s billionaire father.

He wasn’t in handcuffs. He was wearing a bespoke Italian suit, sipping a cup of coffee, looking completely unbothered.

I tried to sit up, but the wires held me down. “Arthur. I took your accounts. The FBI froze everything.”

Arthur chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that chilled me to the bone. “Eleanor, Eleanor. You were a brilliant director in your day. But you’ve been out of the game too long. Did you really think I’d leave my entire empire vulnerable to a retired federal agent living in a farmhouse?”

He walked over to my bedside, leaning down so close I could smell his expensive cologne.

“The asset freeze papers you served Vanessa? A brilliant distraction,” Arthur whispered. “While Vance and his team were busy raiding my empty offices and freezing shell accounts containing a few measly millions, the real wealth—four billion dollars—was successfully transferred into a decentralized crypto-ledger. And do you know who authorized the transfer?”

My heart began to race. The monitor beeped faster. “No…”

“Your brilliant son, Daniel,” Arthur smiled wickedly. “We knew who you were the moment Daniel brought you to the estate. Vanessa’s cruelty? It wasn’t just for fun, Eleanor. It was a calculated psychological operation to keep your eyes on her, while Daniel used your biometric bypass—the thumbprint scanner on your phone while you slept—to authorize the federal clearance we needed to move the money.”

The room felt like it was spinning. Daniel hadn’t just been a coward. He had been the mastermind’s accomplice. He had sacrificed his own mother to secure his share of the billions.

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The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure terminal on my desk flashed a violent crimson. I hadn't slept in thirty-six hours, my eyes burning from staring at columns of ghost figures, duplicate invoices, and shell corporations linked to Dominic Rossi. But the red alert wasn’t from Rossi’s faction. It was an internal security flag originating from the estate’s main vault deep beneath the west wing.

The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure ter...

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scattering the light from the chandeliers. The muffled laughter died instantly, replaced by a suffocating, heavy silence that crept outward from the grand staircase.

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scatter...

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking out the clinical, terrifying silence of the kitchen. Evelyn Crane stood stiffly in front of my mahogany desk, her hands folded over her apron with the rigid precision of someone who had spent decades micromanaging every square inch of my estate. Behind her, Norah hovered near the doorway, clutching her clipboard like a shield.

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking...

“So, what happens now?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the betrayal ripping through my chest.

“Now, you die of a tragic post-surgery relapse,” Arthur said softly, reaching for the IV drip line connected to my arm. He pulled a small vial of clear liquid from his pocket. “And Vanessa and Daniel will be released due to a severe lack of evidence and a very compromised judge. Goodbye, Eleanor.”

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