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🔥 SHE THOUGHT HER MONEY COULD BUY HER OUT OF MURDER… UNTIL THE CCTV PLAYED BACK WHAT SHE SAID RIGHT BEFORE THE ASSAULT! 🎥😱 / Chapter 4 / 8

Chapter 4 - The Twin's Revenge

Alexander stopped in his tracks.

He slowly lowered his arm, looking down at his bare, unblemished wrist where his signature family tattoo was supposed to be.

Maya drew her service weapon in a split second, pointing it straight at his chest. "Who are you?!"

The man standing before them let out a low, slow chuckle. He reached behind his neck, unzipping a micro-thin silicon mask that peeled away to reveal a face nearly identical to Alexander’s—but with a long, wicked scar running down his left jawline.

"It took you girls long enough to notice," the man purred, tossing the realistic mask onto the marble floor.

"Julian..." Elena gasped, backing away until her spine hit the grand staircase pillar. "Alexander's twin... you were supposed to have died in the car crash six years ago!"

"Died?" Julian laughed bitterly. "Our beloved grandfather shipped me off to a black-site prison in Siberia because I found out the truth about the Blackwood fortune! Alexander got the empire, the mansion, and the beautiful girl... while I got tortured in the snow!"

"Where is Alexander?!" Maya demanded, her gun steady on Julian's forehead. "Answer me!"

Julian casually walked over to the mini-bar, poured himself a glass of 30-year-old scotch, and took a slow sip.

"Oh, Alexander is currently lying in a soundproof cellar beneath this very mansion," Julian said, checking his luxury watch. "And in exactly four minutes, the automated ventilation system in that cellar will flood the room with carbon monoxide."

Elena’s heart stopped. "You monster! Give us the access code!"

"I’ll give you a choice, Elena," Julian smiled, pulling out a remote control with a single red button. "Button A unlocks the cellar door and saves your precious husband. But... it also sends an automated trigger to the safehouse where your newborn baby girl is sleeping right now."

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The heavy brass key felt impossibly cold against my palm, yet the metal hummed with a quiet, persistent gravity. I stared down at the simple platinum band on my left ring finger—the same ring Mara had slipped onto my hand twelve years ago in a quiet ceremony by the coast. She had always joked that my fingerprints would eventually wear the metal down to a thread.

The heavy brass key felt impossibly cold against my palm, yet the metal...

I didn’t wipe the blood from my nose. I let it drip onto the pristine white bodice of my ten-thousand-dollar wedding gown, watching the crimson bloom against the silk like ink on parchment.

I didn’t wipe the blood from my nose. I let it drip onto the pristine wh...

The shards of crystal caught the cold light of the recessed kitchen ceiling, scattering tiny prisms across the imported Italian marble. I didn’t move immediately. I stayed crouched on the floor, the blood humming faintly in my ears, while Claudia’s sharp heels clicked away toward the foyer, her displeasure radiating like a physical chill.

The shards of crystal caught the cold light of the recessed kitchen ceil...

Elena screamed, falling to her knees. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

"Because I don't just want the money," Julian growled, dropping the mask of cool composure. "I want to watch the Blackwood line burn to ashes!"

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