Chapter 8 - The Arrival
The heavy brass locks clicked shut with a sound that echoed through the quiet room.
Gavin raised his glass, wiping a fake tear from his eye as he spoke about the tragic house fire this morning.
He solemnly announced to the wealthy crowd that his beloved estranged wife had perished in a terrible accident.
He claimed that he would use my life insurance money to build a charitable foundation in my honor.
A collective gasp of sympathy rippled through the audience as Brooke rested her head against his shoulder.
My mother dabbed her eyes with a silk handkerchief, playing the role of a grieving parent flawlessly.
I stepped out of the shadows, my high heels clicking sharply against the polished marble floor.
The sympathy in the room instantly vanished, replaced by a suffocating, terrified silence.
Gavin dropped his champagne glass, watching it shatter into a hundred pieces at his feet.
Brooke stumbled backward, clutching the baby to her chest as if she had just seen a ghost.
My mother turned the color of chalk, her knees buckling under the weight of her unbelievable guilt.
I walked slowly toward the front table, offering the room a calm, triumphant smile.
I told the guests that rumors of my demise had been greatly exaggerated.
May you like
I snapped my fingers, signaling my security team to begin their work.
Dozens of men in dark suits stepped forward, handing a thick white envelope to every single guest.
