Chapter 8 - THE FLASH DRIVE
I didn't sleep.
I ran the entire two miles back to my small apartment.
I locked the deadbolt, threw off the heavy wool coat, and booted up my old laptop.
My hands were shaking so badly I dropped the flash drive twice before finally plugging it into the USB port.
A single video file popped up on the screen.
I clicked play.
It was security footage.
The timestamp in the corner read Tuesday morning. 6:00 AM.
Three hours before I pushed Leo’s stroller across the foyer.
The camera angle was from the high chandelier, looking down at the grand staircase.
The footage was grainy, but the figures were unmistakable.
Victoria walked into the frame.
She was holding a small glass bottle.
She leaned over the top step and carefully poured the liquid in a long, slick line across the marble.
But she wasn't alone.
Marcus stepped into the frame next to her.
He didn't stop her.
He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck.
Victoria pointed down the stairs, laughing silently.
Then, she mouthed a single sentence to Marcus.
I am not an expert at lip-reading, but the camera was high enough to catch her face clearly.
“He’ll break his neck.”
My blood turned to ice.
She wasn't targeting the maid.
She wasn't targeting the baby.
She was targeting David.
David always left for his morning run at 6:30 AM.
He always bounded down those stairs at full speed in his running shoes.
If he had hit that oil, he would have tumbled down thirty marble steps.
He would have died.
And as his fiancée, holding medical power of attorney and a freshly signed prenuptial trust, Victoria would have inherited millions before the wedding even happened.
But David hadn't gone for his run that morning.
He had taken a phone call in his study instead.
I was the first one to reach the stairs with the stroller.
I had ruined her murder attempt.
That’s why she was so furious.
That’s why she fired me.
I pulled the heavy iron key from my pocket.
I recognized the shape of the bow.
It was the key to the massive, fireproof safe in David’s private wine cellar.
The safe that held the physical, original copies of the family trust.
The documents Victoria needed to finalize her theft.
David had given me the key to protect his children’s future.
I looked at the clock on the wall.
It was 8:00 AM.
Saturday.
The wedding had been postponed, but Victoria hadn't postponed her flight to Zurich.
She was leaving tomorrow.
She would drain the accounts today, and Marcus would ensure she got away.
I grabbed my coat.
I couldn't let her win.
I called an Uber and rode back to the Vance estate.
When I arrived at the massive iron front gates, my heart sank.
Marcus was standing at the guardhouse, arms crossed.
He saw my car pull up.
He walked over and tapped on the window.
I rolled it down slightly.
“I told you, Clara,” Marcus smiled, a cruel, mocking grin. “The bride said no ex-employees. You’re trespassing.”
“Let me see David,” I demanded.
“Mr. Vance is busy,” Marcus said. “Now tell your driver to turn around, or I’ll have you arrested.”
I looked at the massive iron gates.
They were locked tight.
Marcus turned his back and walked toward the guardhouse to call the police.
But I had worked at that mansion for three years.
I knew every loose hinge.
Every hidden corner.
May you like
I told the Uber driver to pull around to the service road behind the estate.
The road where the old, forgotten coal chute connected to the basement.
