Chapter 8 - THE NIGHT THE MANSION TURNED AGAINST THEM
Victoria knew something was wrong.
She could feel it.
The engagement party was supposed to be a celebration.
Instead, she spent the entire evening watching Ethan.
Watching Elena.
Watching every conversation.
Every movement.
And she noticed something.
Ethan was avoiding her.
That never happened before.
After dinner, Victoria followed him upstairs.
“Ethan.”
He stopped.
“Yes?”
She smiled.
“You’ve been distant.”
“I’m tired.”
“Are you sure?”
The question sounded sweet.
But it was a threat.
Ethan looked at her.
For years, he had admired her confidence.
Now he saw something else.
Control.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
Victoria asked.
The old Ethan would have answered immediately.
Of course.
But tonight…
He hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Victoria’s face became colder.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
Ethan almost laughed.
The irony was painful.
“You’re accusing me of lying?”
Victoria stared.
Then she smiled.
“Be careful, Ethan.”
“Careful of what?”
“Careful who you believe.”
She walked away.
But Ethan watched her leave.
And for the first time, he wondered if that warning was actually meant for himself.
Meanwhile, Elena returned to the Blackwood estate.
She needed to get the original documents from Victoria’s private office.
Daniel believed there might be more evidence hidden there.
But entering Victoria’s office was nearly impossible.
Security cameras everywhere.
Guards everywhere.
Then Elena found an unexpected ally.
Margaret Blackwood.
“You’re going into Victoria’s office tonight.”
Elena looked surprised.
“How did you know?”
Margaret smiled sadly.
“Because I know what desperation looks like.”
Elena lowered her voice.
“She’s dangerous.”
Margaret nodded.
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell Ethan?”
Margaret looked away.
“Because Victoria made sure he wouldn’t believe me.”
“How?”
“She convinced him my memory was failing.”
Elena felt anger rising.
“She destroyed your reputation inside your own home.”
Margaret whispered:
“She destroyed my voice.”
Using an old servant entrance, Elena and Margaret entered the west wing.
Victoria’s private office was dark.
Silent.
Like nobody had ever entered.
Elena searched through drawers.
Files.
Cabinets.
Nothing.
Then Margaret noticed something.
“The painting.”
Elena turned.
“What?”
“Victoria loves hiding things behind paintings.”
They removed a large portrait.
Behind it was a safe.
Elena’s heart raced.
They opened it with a code Margaret remembered from years earlier.
Inside:
A second flash drive.
A contract.
And a photograph.
Elena picked up the photograph.
Her face changed.
It showed Victoria standing beside a doctor.
The same doctor who had treated Charles Blackwood before his death.
Margaret whispered:
“No…”
Then they heard footsteps.
Someone was coming.
Elena turned off the light.
The office door opened.
A voice entered.
Victoria.
“I knew someone would eventually find this.”
Elena held her breath.
May you like
Victoria walked closer.
“I just didn’t expect it to be you.”
