Chapter 18: The Trap at the Family Estate

The drive to my grandmother's estate felt endless.

Jack kept both hands on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the road.

Neither of us spoke much.

The message from my father's phone remained open on my screen.

Grandmother has collapsed.

Those four words kept tightening something inside my chest.

When we finally reached the estate, the gates were wide open.

That was the first thing that felt wrong.

My grandmother never allowed the gates to remain unattended after dark.

Jack slowed the car.

"Something's wrong."

I nodded.

"I know."

We stepped inside together.

The foyer was strangely quiet.

No servants rushed toward us.

No doctor stood nearby.

No ambulance waited outside.

My father's voice suddenly echoed from the drawing room.

"Esme, you're finally here."

I stopped walking.

My father stepped into view.

He looked perfectly calm.

"Where's Grandmother?"

He smiled faintly.

"She's resting upstairs."

"You said she collapsed."

"She did."

His eyes shifted toward Jack.

"But she recovered."

I stared at him.

"Then why did you tell me she was in danger?"

My father's expression hardened.

"Because you wouldn't have come otherwise."

Jack moved slightly in front of me.

"What do you want?"

My father ignored him.

He looked directly at me.

"You have something that belongs to this family."

"My inheritance?"

"The documents."

My stomach tightened.

So that was it.

He knew about the evidence.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

My father laughed quietly.

"Don't insult my intelligence."

He snapped his fingers.

Two security guards appeared from the hallway.

Jack immediately stepped forward.

"Back away from her."

One of the guards reached inside his jacket.

Jack's expression turned cold.

"Try it."

The tension in the room became suffocating.

Then a weak voice came from upstairs.

"Esme."

I froze.

It was my grandmother.

"Grandmother?"

I rushed toward the staircase.

My father tried to stop me.

Jack blocked him.

"Let her go."

I ran upstairs.

My grandmother was sitting on the edge of her bed.

She looked pale, but her eyes were clear.

The moment she saw me, tears filled them.

"You came."

I knelt beside her.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

She took my hand.

"Your father lied to you."

My chest tightened.

"I know."

She squeezed my fingers.

"I was the one who sent the message."

I stared at her.

"You?"

"Your father took my phone. I managed to get it back for a few minutes."

She reached beneath her pillow.

A small black envelope appeared in her hand.

"I kept this for years."

She placed it in my palm.

"I should have given it to you sooner."

I opened the envelope.

Inside was an old photograph.

Emma stood beside my mother and father.

Behind them was the private clinic where my psychiatric evaluation had been created.

But that wasn't what shocked me.

Someone else stood in the photograph.

The doctor.

And beside him was Corbin's former personal assistant.

The same man who had delivered the rings.

My breath caught.

"Grandmother, you knew?"

"I suspected."

Her voice trembled.

"But I didn't have enough proof to protect you."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because your parents were watching everything I did."

She pulled another document from the envelope.

"This is the original will."

I unfolded it.

My grandmother had left the majority of her estate to me.

But there was another clause.

If I died under suspicious circumstances, the entire inheritance would be transferred to an independent trust and investigated by a federal executor.

I stared at her.

"They knew about this."

"Yes."

"That's why they wanted me gone before you died."

She nodded.

"And that's why they are desperate to get the evidence back."

Suddenly, a crash echoed from downstairs.

Jack shouted my name.

I jumped to my feet.

My grandmother grabbed my wrist.

"Don't go down there alone."

We hurried into the hallway.

Jack was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

One guard was unconscious on the floor.

My father was nowhere to be seen.

Then Jack looked toward the front door.

"Esme, they're leaving."

A black sedan sped away from the estate.

My grandmother came slowly down the stairs.

She looked at the disappearing car.

Her face became grim.

"Your father wasn't trying to retrieve the documents."

I turned toward her.

"Then what was he doing?"

She looked at me with trembling eyes.

"He was trying to find out whether you still had them."

My phone buzzed again.

This time, the message came from an unknown number.

"You have forty-eight hours to leave New York."

A second message appeared immediately afterward.

"Or you will end up exactly where you did last time."

I stared at the words.

Fear rose inside me.

But beneath it was something stronger.

Determination.

I locked my phone.

"They should have remembered one thing."

Jack looked at me.

"What's that?"

I looked toward the dark road where my father's car had disappeared.

"I'm not the same woman they killed before."