Chapter 4 - Whispers in the Dark
The next three days passed in a blur of hyper-vigilance. Ethan had doubled the security at the penthouse, placing armed guards at the private elevator entrance. He spent his days locked in his home office, his legal team working overtime to file an emergency restraining order against Victoria, barring her from coming within 500 feet of Ethan, Leo, and Sophie.
But legal papers were just pieces of paper to a woman with Victoria’s resources.
On the fourth morning, Sophie was in the kitchen preparing Leo’s organic puree when her phone buzzed on the counter. It was an unknown number. Usually, she ignored blocked calls, but a strange intuition made her swipe right and press the phone to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Do you like the view from the penthouse, Sophie?"
The voice was unmistakable. It was Victoria, purring like a cat that had successfully cornered a mouse.
Sophie’s breath hitched. She immediately moved away from the kitchen island, looking instinctively toward the large glass windows, half-expecting to see a sniper or a drone. "How did you get this number?"
"Oh, darling, money can buy anything. Including the cell records of a girl who earns twenty-five dollars an hour," Victoria laughed softly. "I know Ethan thinks he’s keeping you safe up there in his glass castle. But he’s a fool. He thinks this is about money. He thinks this is about the foundations."
"Leave us alone, Victoria," Sophie said, her voice shaking but determined. "Ethan knows everything. He’s going to the police with the embezzlement files."
There was a long, chilling pause on the other end of the line. When Victoria spoke again, the amusement was entirely gone from her tone. It was replaced by a sharp, venomous bite.
"Let him go to the police. Let him show them whatever digital fairy tales he’s cooked up," Victoria hissed. "But you should ask your handsome boss about the real reason Helena left that night. Ask him about the autopsy report that vanished from the medical examiner's office. Ask him why Helena’s brakes failed on a perfectly flat stretch of road before she ever hit the cliffs."
Sophie’s heart stopped. "What are you talking about?"
"Ethan didn't love Helena, Sophie. He married her for the Sterling family connections. And when Helena found out about his... extracurricular activities, she threatened to ruin him. He killed her, Sophie. He cut those brake lines. And he’s using you as a shield because he knows I’m close to proving it. Look under the floorboards of the nursery at the old estate. Helena left a journal. If you want to know who the real monster is, go find it. Before Ethan decides you know too much, too."
The line went dead.
Sophie stood frozen in the middle of the ultra-modern kitchen, the phone slipping from her fingers and clattering onto the marble floor. Her mind was in a state of chaotic overdrive. Was Victoria lying? It was highly probable; she was a proven sociopath who had tied a girl to a bedpost just days prior. But the detail about the autopsy report... the detail about the brakes...
"Sophie? Is everything okay?"
She jumped. Ethan was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a stack of legal documents. He looked exhausted, deep dark circles under his eyes, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked like a man carrying the weight of the world.
Or a man carrying a terrible, lethal guilt.
"I... I dropped my phone," Sophie lied, her voice tight as she quickly knelt down to pick it up. She didn't look him in the eye. For the first time since this nightmare began, she looked at the man who had rescued her and felt a sickening wave of doubt.
"My lawyers just secured the permanent injunction against Victoria," Ethan said, walking over to her. He noticed her pale complexion and placed a gentle hand on her arm. "You're shaking. What happened?"
May you like
"Nothing. Just lack of sleep," she whispered, pulling her arm away just a fraction of an inch too quickly.
Ethan’s eyes narrowed slightly, noticing the subtle withdrawal. He didn't push her, but the sudden air of suspicion between them was palpable. The seed of doubt had been planted, and Victoria’s psychological warfare was working perfectly.
