Chapter 8 - THE FINAL TWIST (THE SHADOW IN THE MIRROR)
The high-security visitor room at State Penitentiary was cold, clinical, and smelled faintly of bleach.
Victoria sat behind the thick, bulletproof glass, wearing an orange jumpsuit. Her hair was unwashed, her skin sallow, her wrist encased in a heavy plastic cast.
When Nora sat down on the other side of the glass and picked up the telephone receiver, Victoria let out a bitter, raspy laugh.
“Came to gloat?” Victoria sneered through the speaker. “Came to see the fallen queen in her cage?”
“No,” Nora said calmly, her tone completely even. “I came to give you a message from my mother.”
Victoria’s laughter stopped. She narrowed her eyes. “Elena is dead.”
“She is,” Nora said. “But before she died, she gave me three lockets.”
Victoria frowned. “Three? What are you talking about? There was only one silver locket.”
Nora leaned closer to the glass, her dark eyes locking onto Victoria’s with terrifying intensity.
“The silver locket had the micro-card,” Nora whispered. “The gold locket had the key to the Swiss safety deposit box where the physical cash was stored. Do you know what was in the third locket, Victoria?”
Victoria’s breathing shallowly hit the glass, creating a patch of fog. “What?”
“The DNA test results,” Nora said softly.
Victoria scoffed. “DNA results? For what? We already know you’re Elena’s daughter!”
“Not my DNA,” Nora said, leaning in until her face was inches from the glass. “Julian’s DNA.”
Victoria froze. Her entire body went rigid as a terrifying realization began to form in her mind.
“You lied to Julian, didn’t you?” Nora continued, her voice smooth as silk. “You told him he was the son of Victor Vance, the Syndicate boss, so he would be willing to do your dirty work. You raised him to be a cold-blooded killer by feeding him stories of his dark bloodline.”
Victoria’s hands began to shake violently against the steel table. “Shut up... shut up!”
“I ran Julian’s DNA against the Whitmore database yesterday,” Nora whispered, a cold, dangerous smile spreading across her face. “Julian isn’t Victor Vance’s son, Victoria. He’s my mother Elena’s biological son. Born six months before she fled.”
Victoria let out a strangled gasp, dropping the telephone receiver onto the counter.
“Julian isn’t your son,” Nora said, her voice easily penetrating the glass. “He was Elena’s first child. The baby you stole from her eighteen years ago to secure your place in the family when you thought you couldn't have children! You stole Elena’s baby, raised him as your own, lied to him about his father, and turned him into a weapon to kill his own mother and sister!”
“NO!” Victoria shrieked, slamming her fists against the bulletproof glass, tears of pure horror bursting from her eyes. “NO! HE IS MY SON! HE IS MY SON!”
“He was my brother,” Nora said, standing up from her chair and looking down at the broken woman behind the glass. “And yesterday, I visited him in the federal detention center. I showed him the DNA results. I showed him the birth certificate.”
Victoria was hyperventilating now, clawing at her face, screaming wildly through the thick glass. “WHAT DID HE SAY? WHAT DID JULIAN SAY?!”
Nora put her hand against the glass, her eyes cold and empty of all mercy.
“He said he finally understands why he hated you his entire life,” Nora whispered. “And he promised that when he gets out of prison... he’s coming for you first.”
Nora turned her back on the screaming, hysterical woman and walked down the long, echoing hallway toward the exit doors.
Outside, the rain had stopped. Bright, golden sunlight broke through the dark storm clouds, bathing the world in a warm, clean light. A sleek black limousine was waiting for her at the curb, the driver holding the door open.
Nora adjusted the silver locket around her neck—the broken chain replaced with solid white gold.
She stepped into the car, looked out at the city skyline, and closed the door.
The maid was gone.
The heiress had arrived.
May you like
And the game was just beginning.
THE END
