Chapter 3 - The Bloody Visitor
I unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open, my hands shaking uncontrollably.
Patricia stumbled into the foyer, clutching her right arm as dark blood soaked through her expensive blouse.
"Help me," she sobbed, collapsing onto the hardwood floor.
My father rushed forward with a towel, applying pressure to a deep, jagged cut on her forearm.
"What happened to you, Patricia?" my father demanded, his voice sharp but steady.
"It was Derek," she cried, tears streaming down her pale face.
"He went crazy when you left, Claire."
She claimed that Derek had become violent, smashing glass and demanding to know where the offshore money was hidden.
"He said he was going to burn everything down," she gasped out, gripping my father's shirt.
"I tried to stop him, but he pushed me through the glass coffee table."
I stood paralyzed, unable to reconcile the lazy man I knew with this violent monster.
"I need to call an ambulance," I said, reaching for my phone.
"No!" Patricia screamed, her eyes widening in sudden, absolute terror.
"No police, no ambulances, or he'll kill us both."
She begged me to just bandage her arm and let her hide in the guest room for the night.
My father exchanged a suspicious look with me, clearly not trusting the woman who had stolen my salary.
However, we couldn't just throw a bleeding woman back out into the freezing night.
I ran to the bathroom to get the first-aid kit, leaving Patricia sobbing on the floor.
When I returned, my father was helping her up, but I noticed something strange.
A folded piece of thick, official-looking paper had slipped out of Patricia's designer purse.
I quietly picked it up while my father distracted her with the bandages.
I unfolded the document in the hallway, my blood turning to ice.
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It was a life insurance policy taken out on me just three days ago.
The payout was two million dollars, and the sole beneficiary was Patricia.
