sports
449 🧐"I thought my seven-month-pregnant wife was hiding a betrayal from me because my own mother kept whispering poison into my ears. But the moment I pulled back the blanket covering her legs, I realized the real monster had been standing in my home all along... pretending she had done nothing. / Chapter 8 / 10

Chapter 8 - Finding the Evidence

The next day, I contacted a private investigator named Marcus Vance (no relation to my family), a gruff, retired Chicago detective who specialized in domestic abuse cases. I met him in a small diner near the hospital, the smell of grease and strong coffee filling the air.

"Your mother is smart, Jake," Marcus said, taking a sip of his coffee. "She made sure there were no cameras inside your apartment, and she chose her moments when you were at work. But a woman like that... she always leaves a paper trail. She’s arrogant. She thinks she’s untouchable."

"What do we do?" I asked, desperate. "Her lawyers are going to try to paint Megan as unstable in court. We need something undeniable."

"I’ve been doing some digging," Marcus said, pulling a manila folder from his briefcase. "Your mother has a history of 'falling out' with people who don't do what she wants. Five years ago, a housekeeper at her estate was hospitalized with a broken wrist. The housekeeper signed a non-disclosure agreement and received a massive payout from your father’s family trust. I found the housekeeper. She’s willing to testify about Evelyn’s violent outbursts if we can guarantee her safety."

My heart leaped. "That’s amazing, Marcus. But we need something direct. Something that proves she did this to Megan."

"I also checked the security footage of your apartment building," Marcus continued, a small, grim smile appearing on his face. "Your landlord told the police the cameras in the hallway were 'broken' on the days of the assaults. Well, I paid a visit to the landlord. Turns out, your mother paid him ten thousand dollars to delete the footage."

I slammed my fist on the table. "That corrupt bastard!"

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"Don't worry," Marcus chuckled. "He was terrified of going to prison for tampering with evidence. He gave me the backup hard drive. He hadn't wiped it yet. I’ve got the footage, Jake. It shows your mother entering your apartment with a spare key while you were at work, and on three separate occasions, it captures the sound of Megan screaming from inside, followed by your mother leaving with a look of absolute satisfaction. On one of the videos, she’s actually wiping blood off her hands with a tissue."

Tears of relief spilled over my eyelashes. "We got her," I whispered. "We finally got her."

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