My parents ignored nine urgent calls from my hospital bed because they were helping my sister unpack her new suburban home. So I called my estate lawyer to the hospital, changed everything on the spot, and when they finally arrived, they learned exactly what their cruelty had cost them.

Lauren’s confession hung in the cold hospital air like a live grenade.

I stared at my sister, feeling a deep, sickening realization settle into the pit of my stomach.

She wasn't begging for my financial help; she was demanding my complicity in massive corporate fraud.

Julian quickly pulled out his encrypted tablet and accessed my primary banking network.

His fingers flew across the digital keyboard as he searched for any unauthorized pending collateral holds.

His face turned completely pale as he found the exact document Lauren was screaming about.

Julian turned the screen toward me so I could read the fine print of the forged loan agreement.

I saw my own signature, perfectly replicated, sitting at the bottom of the digital contract.

I asked Julian to check the exact timestamp of when the forged document was submitted to the bank.

Julian swallowed hard and read the time aloud.

The loan was submitted at exactly 8:15 a.m. yesterday morning.

My blood ran completely cold as I did the mental math.

My horrific car accident at the intersection occurred at exactly 8:30 a.m. yesterday morning.

I looked at Lauren, who was now nervously chewing on her thumbnail and refusing to meet my eyes.

The heavy delivery truck running the red light was not a tragic, random accident.

Greg had hired the driver to kill me so the bank would automatically process the forged loan during the chaos of my death.

My own brother-in-law had orchestrated my murder, and my sister was currently helping him cover it up.

I pushed past Lauren with a sudden burst of furious strength, entirely ignoring the agonizing pain in my broken ribs.

Julian shoved Lauren aside and guided me safely into the service elevator.

The metal doors slammed shut, cutting off Lauren's hysterical, pathetic screaming.

We descended to the underground parking garage where Julian’s private armored car was waiting.

As we sped out into the dark city streets, I told Julian to hire the best private investigators money could buy.

I wanted every single piece of dirt on Greg, Lauren, and my parents before the sun came up.

“Which daughter is yours?” should have been a harmless question

The first wineglass shattered at 8:07 p.m

The moment the mafia boss’s wife called me “an illiterate servant,”

Julian nodded, tapping his earpiece to connect with his elite security contacts.

Suddenly, a massive black SUV swerved out of a dark alleyway and violently rammed into the back of our car.

Chapter 5 - The Hired Hit