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The silence in the children’s room was heavy, suffocating, and thick with the electric shock of Rebeca's parting shot. Daniel stared at the glowing screen of the old cell phone, his breath catching in his throat. The digital ink on the screen seemed to burn into his retinas, spelling out a betrayal so profound it threatened to stop his heart. / Chapter 3 / 8

Chapter 3 - Elena’s Final Warning

The video file opened automatically. The screen flickered, and then Elena appeared.

She looked tired, sitting right at this very desk, her eyes dark with a mixture of stress and profound sadness. She wasn't smiling. She looked directly into the camera lens as if she were looking straight into Daniel's soul.

“Daniel, if you’re watching this, it means I’m gone, and it means Rebeca has made her move,” Elena’s voice echoed softly through the quiet study.

Daniel gripped the arms of his chair so hard the wood groaned.

“I didn't want to believe it either,” Elena continued on the recording, a tear slipping down her cheek. “When she came into our lives claiming to be my long-lost cousin, I wanted a family connection. I wanted to trust her. But she’s not family, Daniel. She’s an opportunist with a criminal record under an alias. She’s been systematically draining the family trust and forging property transfers.”

The video shifted, showing digital documents flashing across the screen—real estate deeds, offshore account transfers, and medical prescriptions showing unusual dosages of sedatives administered over months.

“She’s been poisoning my tea, Daniel. Slowly. Just enough to make me erratic, just enough to make you doubt my sanity so she could position herself as your caretaker and legal guardian of the children. If anything happens to me on the road tonight... look at the brakes of my car. She was in the garage yesterday.”

Daniel felt the room spin. The air left his lungs in a violent rush.

Elena had known. She had known she was being murdered, and she had tried to stop it, but time ran out. The car crash that took her life wasn't an accident. It was homicide, orchestrated by the woman he had invited into his home, the woman he had allowed to sleep down the hallway from his children.

A cold, dark fury ignited inside Daniel—a fury so absolute, so primal, that it burned away all human grief and replaced it with a singular, terrifying purpose.

Rebeca wasn't just a fraudster. She was a murderer.

Just as the realization crashed over him, the power in the mansion abruptly cut out. The computer screen flickered and died. Pitch blackness engulfed the study, save for the pale moonlight filtering through the French doors.

And then, from the hallway outside, came the unmistakable, chilling sound of a floorboard creaking.

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The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the freezing slate beneath my spine. The blinding white vortex of snow kicked up by the downdraft burned my eyes, but I forced my lids open, locking my gaze onto the amber visor of the rescue specialist dropping out of the sky.

The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the...

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking against the pristine hospital linoleum. He reached for the tray table, his fingers brushing the edge of the papers. His voice was low, coated in a practiced, corporate calm that made my stomach churn worse than the spiked blood pressure.

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking agai...

The silence in the dining room stretched thin, heavy enough to slice with a butter knife. Robert, Michael’s father, adjusted his napkin, completely oblivious to the silent war being fought across the porcelain plates.

The silence in the dining room stretched thin, heavy enough to slice wit...

Click.

The heavy lock of the study door turned from the outside.

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