The silence in the Lake Forest kitchen was deafening, save for the rhythmic hum of the Sub-Zero refrigerator. I stood frozen, my phone’s blue light casting harsh shadows across June Carter’s pale, terrified face. On the screen, Victor Hale’s signature—bold, crisp, and deceptively clean—mocked me.

I stared at David, the horrifying realization washing over me like a wave of freezing water.

"You..." I choked out. "You weren't running from Victor. You were his partner all along."

Victor smiled broadly, stepping down the stairs and clapping David on the shoulder. "Brilliant, isn't it? David played the victim so you would chase me right into this trap. We needed someone to take the fall for the forensic audit, Julian. And who better than the grieving, unstable CEO who lost his mind after his wife's tragic accident?"

The guards moved in closer, their rifle barrels pressing uncomfortably close.

"It's poetic, really," Victor continued, his eyes gleaming with sadistic triumph. "You inherit the blame for the embezzlement. You inherit the blame for the corporate collapse. And tonight, your body will be found in a tragic, fiery car crash on the interstate, fleeing the country after realizing your crimes were uncovered. Suicide by guilt."

My heart hammered against my ribs. I had walked right into their execution chamber. There was no escape. No cavalry coming.

"You killed Sarah," I whispered, my voice thick with unshed tears. "You killed the only person who ever truly loved me."

"She was stubborn," Victor sighed, shaking his head with mock sorrow. "Just like you. Some people just don't know when to keep their mouths shut and look at the bottom line."

Victor turned his back on me, climbing the aircraft stairs, tossing his briefcase inside the cabin. He paused at the doorway, looking down with a final, contemptuous sneer.

"Goodbye, Julian. Give Sarah my regards."