Chapter 6 - Betrayal in the DarkBefore Evan could toss the iron box into the fire, Vance lunged across the room, tackling him to the floor. The heavy metal box clattered across the hardwood, sliding straight to my feet.
Mark Reynolds saw his chance. He reached inside his suit jacket, pulling a small silver revolver from his pocket.
“Vance! Watch out!” I screamed.
Vance reacted instantly, rolling off Evan and firing a single round into the ceiling. The deafening crack of the gunshot echoed off the timber walls. The sheer concussive force made Mark drop his gun in terror, falling backward into a leather armchair with his hands over his ears.
“Don't move!” Vance ordered, pointing his weapon directly at Mark’s forehead.
Evan scrambled backward on his hands and knees, clutching his bruised chest, staring at me with pure venom.
“You think you’ve won?” Evan spat, a dark, hysterical laugh escaping his throat. “You think that box saves you, Sarah? Open it! Go ahead, open it!”
I picked up the heavy iron box from the floor. It was cold, locked with an intricate brass double-tumbler lock. I pulled the small brass key from my necklace—the key Richard had given me days before his death—and inserted it into the keyhole.
With a heavy click, the lid popped open.
Inside lay a thick leather binder, several sealed envelopes, and a small silver USB flash drive. But resting on top of the documents was a handwritten letter addressed not to me, and not to Vance—but to Evan.
I picked up the letter, my brow furrowing in confusion. “What is this?”
Mark Reynolds let out a long, defeated groan from the armchair, putting his head in his hands. “Tell her, Evan. Tell her before she reads it.”
Evan stared at the floor, his jaw working silently, all the arrogant rage suddenly draining out of him, leaving him looking like a terrified, small boy.
I unfolded the paper and began to read Richard’s familiar handwriting aloud:
“To my son, Evan.
If you are reading this, it means you have chosen the path your uncle Mark prepared for you. It means you believed their lies that Sarah was your enemy.
I knew about the poison, Evan. I knew Mark was supplying you with the thallium drops to put in my tea when you were fourteen years old, telling you it was medicine to help me sleep. You were just a child, manipulated by greedy men who wanted control of this estate.
I forgave you long ago, my son. But I could not allow you to destroy Sarah. Everything in this house, every dollar in the offshore accounts, was placed in an irrevocable trust managed by Major Vance. If I died of poisoning, or if Sarah met an unnatural end, the entire fourteen million dollars is automatically donated to the National Center for Victims of Violent Crime.
You inherit nothing, Evan. Unless Sarah chooses to forgive you.”
May you like
The room descended into absolute silence. The only sound was the crackle of the wood stove and the steady drumming of rain against the windowpanes.
Evan collapsed against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest, staring at the floor in stunned, silent horror. He had spent three years trying to kill me for a fortune that had already been taken away from him the moment he agreed to help his uncle.
Related Stories
