flash
The estate doctor, Dr. Harrison, rushed through the parting crowd, his face pale as he knelt beside Grace. The silence hanging over the Blackwood estate was so thick it was suffocating. Nobody dared to breathe. Nobody dared to move. / Chapter 3 / 6

Chapter 3 - THE WEB OF DECEIT

Ethan stared at the note, the words burning into his retinas. Grace threatened to kill my family if I didn't help her fake the miscarriage.

"This is a lie," Ethan said, though his voice sounded hollow even to himself. "Grace wouldn't do this."

"Sir, we checked Maria’s bank accounts," Marcus reported hesitantly, knowing he was walking on a landmine. "An offshore account transferred half a million dollars to her name two days ago. The source of the funds is a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands. We traced the ultimate beneficial owner of that shell company."

Marcus hesitated, looking at the floor.

"Speak, Marcus, before I lose my patience," Ethan warned, his aura terrifyingly dark.

"The owner is Grace Blackwood, sir. The account was opened in her maiden name before you married her."

Ethan staggered back a step, hitting the edge of the control desk. His mind was spinning. The anonymous call. The sudden defensiveness from Grace in the bedroom. The maid's sudden death and the hidden bank accounts. It all fit together into a grotesque puzzle. Was his sweet, innocent wife actually a master manipulator?

He strode out of the security room, a storm brewing in his chest. He needed answers, and he needed them now.

When he entered the master bedroom, Grace was awake, sitting up and sipping some broth. She smiled warmly when she saw him, but her smile froze when she saw the look on his face.

"Ethan? What’s wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," she said, her voice trembling.

Ethan walked over to the bed, throwing the plastic bag containing the maid's suicide note onto her lap. "Explain this, Grace."

Grace picked up the bag, reading the note. As she read, the color completely drained from her face. "What... what is this? Maria is dead? Ethan, I swear I don't know anything about this! I loved Maria, she was always so kind to me!"

"Then explain the half-million dollars transferred from your Cayman Islands account to her bank two days ago," Ethan demanded, towering over her, his voice vibrating with a terrifying mix of betrayal and fury.

"Cayman Islands? I don't have an account there! Ethan, you have to believe me, someone is setting me up!" Grace sobbed, clutching her belly. "Why would I want to fake a miscarriage? I love this baby! It’s our baby!"

"Is it?" Ethan asked, the words cutting through the room like a guillotine.

Grace gasped, her heart shattering. "What did you just say?"

"I received a call, Grace. Someone told me to look closer at your medical records. They said the child isn't mine. And now, the maid who helped poison your drink is dead, leaving a note saying you forced her to help you fake a miscarriage. It all makes sense, doesn't it? If you fake a miscarriage, I never find out the baby isn't mine, and you get to keep being the billionaire's wife without the lie ever blowing up in your face!"

"No! No!" Grace screamed, pulling the wires of her monitor off her skin. She stood up on trembling legs, shaking her head violently. "How can you think that? I have never been with another man! I have loved you since the day I met you! How can you let a few lies destroy everything we built?"

Before Ethan could answer, the door burst open. Dr. Harrison stood there, holding a tablet in his shaking hands. His face was completely bloodless.

"Mr. Blackwood... the DNA results," Harrison stammered, looking back and forth between Ethan and Grace.

Ethan marched over, snatching the tablet from the doctor's hands. He scrolled down to the bottom of the page, where the final legal compatibility percentage was calculated.

Probability of Paternity: 0.00%

Ethan felt the world tilt. The breath left his lungs. He looked up at Grace, his eyes no longer filled with anger, but with an emptiness that was far more terrifying.

"Get out," Ethan said quietly.

"Ethan, please, look at me!" Grace begged, throwing herself at his feet, grabbing his trousers. "It’s a lie! I don't know how the test says that! I swear to God, I’ve only ever been yours!"

Ethan cold-bloodedly pulled his leg away, leaving her weeping on the floor. "Marcus!" Ethan shouted into the hallway. "Take her to the guest house at the edge of the estate. Strip her of her phones, her credit cards, and her keys. She is under house arrest until she gives birth. Once the child is born, we are getting a divorce, and she will leave this city with nothing."

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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...

"Ethan, no! Please!" Grace’s screams echoed down the long marble hallway as Marcus and the female guards gently but firmly lifted her and carried her away.

Ethan stood alone in the center of the massive room, surrounded by luxury, feeling completely dead inside. He didn't see the tiny, hidden camera blinking from the smoke detector on the ceiling, transmitting his despair to an unknown viewer who was currently laughing in the dark.

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