The mansion rose before her like a castle. All its windows dark except for one. The master bedroom on the second floor.
Grace felt sick knowing what was happening in that room. Her brother’s wife in her brother’s bed with another man. While everyone thought Desmond was dead and buried.
She pushed the thought away. Focus Grace. You have a job to do.
Grace had a key to the side entrance. Desmond had given it to her years ago for emergencies. She used it now slipping quietly into the house through the door that led directly to the garage.
The garage was huge big enough for six cars. Right now it held four. Desmond’s silver sedan Monica’s red sports car, a black SUV, and a vintage car that Desmond rarely drove.
Grace pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight app keeping the light low. She walked to the silver sedan. The car Desmond usually drove on long business trips.
The car Monica had sabotaged. Grace lay down on the cold garage floor and slid under the car. She had watched enough crime shows to know where the brakes were.
She took picture after picture dozens of them from every angle. Even with her limited knowledge, Grace could see something was wrong. There was a small cut in one of the brake lines.
Not a natural wear and tear. A deliberate cut designed to leak slowly over time. Monica had really done it.
She had tried to murder Desmond. Grace felt anger burning in her chest as she took more photos. Then she crawled out from under the car and photographed the outside too, including the license plate and the vehicle identification number.
Evidence. Solid, undeniable evidence. As she was finishing, Grace heard something.
Footsteps. Someone was coming down the stairs from the main house. Grace quickly turned off her phone light and hid behind the black SUV, her heart racing.
The door from the house opened and Monica walked in wearing only Desmond’s silk bathrobe. She was on her phone laughing softly. No baby I’m just getting some water from the kitchen, Monica said into the phone.
She must have called Elijah from downstairs. I’ll be right back up. Don’t fall asleep without me.
Monica walked right past the garage entrance toward the kitchen. Grace held her breath not moving a muscle. After what felt like forever, Monica returned with a bottle of water and went back upstairs, still talking sweetly on her phone.
Grace waited another five minutes to make sure Monica was really gone, then she quietly let herself out of the side door and walked quickly back to her car. Once she was safely inside she called Desmond. I got them, she said as soon as he answered.
The photos. You were right Desmond. The brake line is cut.
It’s clear as day. This is evidence of attempted murder. Send them to me right now, Desmond said his voice tight.
And send copies to yourself too. Save them in multiple places. We can’t lose this evidence.
I will. Desmond this is serious. Monica didn’t just wish you were dead.
She tried to make it happen. When this comes out. When this comes out she’ll go to prison, Desmond finished.
Along with whoever she paid to cut those brakes. And Elijah too if he was involved in the planning. What do we do now? Grace asked.
We wait, Desmond said. I know it’s hard but we need more. I want to see how far she’ll go.
Tomorrow I need you to do something else for me. What? Find out who Elijah Morrison really is. Where he works.
His background. Everything. If he helped Monica plan this I want to know who he is and how they met.
I’ll start first thing in the morning, Grace promised. After they hung up, Grace sat in her car for a long moment looking at the mansion. From the outside it looked so peaceful.
So perfect. But inside terrible things were happening. Her brother was alive, but he was living like a ghost watching his own life fall apart.
And his wife, the woman who had promised to love and protect him, had become his worst enemy. Grace started her car and drove home, already planning her next move. The business deal.
Over the next two weeks Monica moved fast. Faster than Desmond expected. She wasn’t wasting any time pretending to grieve.
Every day, Desmond watched through the cameras as Monica made phone calls, sent emails and met with people. She was selling everything. First she contacted Desmond’s business partner, Mr. Richard Chin, and told him she wanted to sell her shares of the company.
I can’t run it alone, Monica had told Mr. Chin. Tears in her eyes, fake tears Desmond knew. It’s too painful.
Everywhere I look I see Desmond. I need a fresh start. Mr. Chin who was a kind man in his 60s had felt sorry for her.
I understand Mrs. Adams. Take your time. There’s no rush.
But Monica had rushed. Within a week she had arranged to sell her controlling shares for $35 million. The deal would close as soon as the 60 day will freeze ended.
$35 million. For a company that Desmond had built from scratch. A company he had poured his heart and soul into for 20 years.
And Monica was selling it without a second thought. But that wasn’t all. Desmond watched as Monica contacted a real estate agent about selling the mansion.
I want to move, Monica told the agent, a sharp woman in a business suit. This house has too many memories. I need something smaller.
Simpler. Lies. All lies.
Monica didn’t want something smaller. She wanted to turn the mansion into cash so she could run away with Elijah. The agent valued the mansion at $22 million.
She said she could have it sold within 3 months. Monica had smiled. Perfect.
Let’s start the process. Desmond felt like he was watching someone tear apart his entire life, piece by piece. And through it all, Elijah was always there.
He came to the mansion almost every night now. Sometimes he stayed until morning. They didn’t even try to hide it anymore.
Why would they? Everyone thought Desmond was dead. Grace had done research on Elijah Morrison, and what she found made Desmond even angrier. Elijah wasn’t a successful businessman like he pretended to be.
He was a con artist. A professional liar who had been married twice before. Both times to wealthy women.
Both marriages had ended in divorce with Elijah walking away with millions. Now he was doing the same thing with Monica. Except this time he didn’t have to wait for a divorce.
He just had to wait for a death. He’s using her, Grace had told Desmond over the phone. Monica thinks they’re partners but Elijah has done this before.
He finds rich women, makes them fall in love with him and then takes their money. So they’re using each other, Desmond had replied bitterly. Monica is using me and Elijah is using Monica.
It’s perfect. But Desmond had a plan. He had been patient for weeks now watching and recording everything.
Now he had hundreds of hours of footage. Videos of Monica and Elijah together. Recordings of their conversations about stealing his money.
Photos of the sabotaged break line. Bank records showing Monica trying to access his frozen accounts. Evidence.
Mountains of evidence. And Desmond had decided, it was almost time to reveal himself. But not yet.
There was one more thing he needed to see. According to Monica’s conversations with Elijah, they were planning something special. An engagement party.
Exactly 40 days after Desmond’s death. It’s traditional in some cultures to have a mourning period of 40 days. Monica had told Elijah with a laugh.
After that I’m officially free to move on. We’ll announce our engagement at a small party. Nothing too big, we don’t want to look disrespectful.
Just close friends. 40 days. A symbolic ending to her fake mourning.
Desmond had circled the date on his calendar. That would be the night. The night he came back from the dead.
The night he destroyed Monica’s lies in front of everyone. Three weeks after the funeral, Desmond got a call from his lawyer, Mr. Harrison. Grace had given him the number to Desmond’s secret phone.
Mr. Adams, Mr. Harrison said, his voice serious. I’m glad you answered. We need to talk.
Urgently. What’s wrong? Desmond asked. It’s your wife.
She’s been coming to my office almost every day trying to break the 60-day freeze on your will. She’s getting aggressive about it. What is she saying? She claims she needs money for expenses.
She says she can’t pay the mansion’s bills without access to your accounts. But Mr. Adams I’ve checked the accounts. You set up automatic payments for all the household expenses.
Everything is being paid. She doesn’t need additional money. Then what does she want the money for? Desmond asked though he already knew the answer.
I believe she wants to access the liquid assets. The cash and investments. She’s asked me multiple times about transferring large sums to her personal account.
Have you let her? Absolutely not. The will is very clear. Everything is frozen for 60 days from the date of your death.
After that as your widow she inherits everything according to the terms you set. But until then I cannot and will not release any funds. Good, Desmond said firmly.
Don’t give her anything. Not a single dollar. There’s something else, Mr. Harrison continued, his voice dropping lower…
