The next morning, I woke up with the determination to move my investigation forward. I couldn’t allow myself to second-guess anymore; I needed to confront my doubts head-on. After receiving a late-night message from Greg confirming that the private investigator was analyzing the photos I’d taken, I knew my next step: I had to keep close to Richard without raising suspicion.My phone buzzed with another message—this time from Sarah, Richard’s wife.“Ms. Margarette, it was lovely meeting you at the gala. Richard and I were discussing the possibility of collaborating with your resort. Let’s schedule a meeting.”Her text was polite, professional, and unnervingly convenient. Was this an opportunity or a trap?Later that day, as I sat in the conference room of the casino’s business wing, I prepared myself for the meeting. Sarah had brought the proposal for her travel company to integrate luxury packages with Montefalco Casino Resort. It was a lucrative concept, but my focus was on the man s
The dinner concluded without any more noticeable tension, but the unease in my chest lingered. I felt as though I was navigating a labyrinth, with Richard—or Leon—deliberately placing roadblocks at every turn. His calculated demeanor only fueled my determination to uncover the truth.The following day, Greg sent a cryptic text: I’ve found something. You’ll want to see this.We met in a secluded café downtown. Greg was seated at a corner table, his laptop open and his expression grim.“What is it?” I asked, sliding into the chair across from him.Greg turned the screen toward me. “I dug into Richard Ledesma’s background. His records only go back three years. Before that, it’s a dead end.”I frowned. “That doesn’t prove anything. People can start fresh.”Greg smirked, shaking his head. “I thought the same, but then I checked immigration records. He entered the country three years ago under the name Richard Ledesma—on the same day Leon Montefalco was declared dead.”My heart stopped. “W
The air between us crackled with tension as Richard—or Leon—stood there, his face shadowed under the chandelier's light. My breath caught in my throat as every nerve in my body screamed at me to demand the truth.But his expression stopped me cold. There was something different about him. A determination, a vulnerability I hadn't seen in Richard before. It was hauntingly familiar, like the Leon I had known, but more guarded.“Margarette,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Please, we need to talk. Privately.”I folded my arms tightly across my chest, willing my voice not to betray the storm raging inside me. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here after everything, don’t you think?”He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I know how this looks. But I need you to hear me out.”“Do you?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. “Do you need me to hear how you let me think you were dead for over a year? How you’ve been parading around as someone else with a new wi
The moment Richard walked into my house, the tension between us was palpable. I stood by the window, arms crossed, gazing out at the city lights, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me. His footsteps were deliberate, measured, as if he wasn’t sure whether to sit or stand."Margarette," he began softly, "we need to talk."I turned to face him, meeting his steady gaze. For a second, my heart betrayed me, skipping a beat at the sight of him—so familiar yet so distant. But the pain of his denial and rejection quickly replaced any warmth I felt."We've been talking," I said coldly. "And all you've been doing is denying who you are, Leon. Or should I say Richard?"He flinched slightly at the name, his jaw tightening. "I came here because I need you to stop," he said firmly. "You’re not just hurting yourself; you’re hurting me. And Sarah."At the mention of her name, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Sarah? Of course. Why wouldn’t she be the center of your world now? She’s the reason you’r
Perhaps the weight of the conversation made the phone feel heavier than usual against my ear.“Do you understand, Greg?” I spoke, attempting to maintain a steady tone. “I need everything about Richard Ledesma—his past, his present, and any connection he might have had to Leon.”“Yes, Ms. Margarette,” the investigator replied on the other end of the line. “I’m already on it. I’ve found some leads that suggest Richard’s timeline before meeting Sarah isn’t as clear as he claims. I’ll update you within the next few days.”“Good,” I murmured, my grip tightening on the phone. “Keep me posted.”I ended the call and stared at the device in my hand, my heart pounding. There was progress, but it still wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed something solid—something undeniable—to expose Richard for who he truly was.Just as I placed the phone on the table, I felt the couch shift beside me. Turning my head, I found William sitting down, his face calm but his eyes carrying a weight I hadn’t notice
Guilt had a way of lingering, clinging to the edges of my thoughts like a shadow I couldn’t shake. Ever since my conversation with William yesterday, his words had played on a loop in my mind: “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m just a placeholder until you find what you’re really looking for.”I hated how true those words felt. William had always been there for me, patient and supportive, even when I was consumed by my search for answers about Leon—or Richard, as he now called himself. But in my quest for the truth, I’d been blind to the toll it had taken on the one person who stood by me unconditionally.Sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee growing cold in front of me, I decided I needed to make things right. I couldn’t erase the hurt I’d caused, but I could try to show William how much he meant to me.By late morning, I was on my way to William’s office. I’d packed a small box of his favorite pastries and coffee from the café he loved, hoping it would serve as a peace offering
The evening air was heavy with the scent of cedar as I stepped into my house in Anacortes. The soft yellow glow of the lamps couldn’t ease the turmoil inside me. My hands trembled as I closed the door behind me, my heart still racing from everything I’d witnessed earlier at William’s office.“Lena?” I called out, my voice wavering as I made my way down the hallway.“In here!” came her cheerful reply from the living room.When I stepped inside, Lena was lounging on the couch, her laptop balanced on her knees. She looked up at me, her face immediately clouding with concern.“What’s wrong?” she asked, setting her laptop aside and standing.I didn’t have the energy to answer her question directly. Instead, I blurted out, “I need your help packing.”Lena’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Packing? For what?”“I’ve booked a flight to Vancouver tomorrow morning,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “We’re going home.”Lena stared at me, wide-eyed. “Wait, what? Home? Why? What’s going on?
The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Aunt Lou’s cozy living room, casting soft patterns across the wooden floors. I sat cross-legged on the couch, a mug of tea warming my hands. Across from me, Aunt Lou watched me intently, her eyes full of concern and patience.“It’s been days, Margarette,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “You’ve barely talked about what’s going on.”I sighed, staring into the swirling tea. “There’s not much to say,” I murmured, though the knot in my chest told a different story. “I saw William with that woman, Aunt Lou. She was fixing his tie, laughing like they shared some private joke. And William... he didn’t even look guilty.”Aunt Lou leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “But did you hear his explanation? Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like.”I shook my head. “I left before he could say anything. And now, the more I think about it, the more I feel like no explanation would change how I felt in that moment. My gut tells me so
The rain was falling again.It always did on days like this—days that felt like endings.I stood on the edge of the cliffs overlooking the stormy waters of Anacortes, my coat pulled tightly around me, the hood shielding my face from the wind that carried the scent of salt and something older—something like goodbye.Leon stood behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to feel him there. His presence was familiar now, carved into my skin like muscle memory. He’d been my gravity, my storm, my salvation, and my ruin—sometimes all at once.“It’s really over, isn’t it?” I whispered, more to the wind than to him.He didn’t answer right away. His silence was as heavy as the stormclouds above us.“I wanted to fix everything for you,” he said finally, his voice hoarse, like it had been dragged across a battlefield. “I wanted to give you a life that didn’t hurt.”I closed my eyes. The ache in my chest pulsed with every beat of my heart. “You did,” I said. “For a while, you did.”I heard the crunch
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. “I’m not the same person I was before,” I said, my voice firm, unwavering. “And I’m not walking away this time.”The man’s eyes flickered with a moment of doubt, just enough for me to catch. And then, before I could even register what had happened, Leon moved.Faster than I could blink, Leon was in front of me, his hand grabbing the gun and twisting it out of the man’s grasp. The force of it sent the man stumbling back, but he didn’t go down easily. His bodyguards rushed in, but Leon was already a step ahead, disarming one of them with a swift, calculated move.I stood frozen for a moment, trying to process what I was witnessing. Leon—always so calm, always so careful—was ruthless. He was like a force of nature, determined to protect me at all costs.But the fight wasn’t over yet. The man recovered, his eyes burning with rage. “You really think you’ve won?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re nothing but a pawn in a game you can’t ev
The sound of boots drew closer, pounding the floor with an urgency that echoed through the cavernous halls of the estate. My heart raced as the reality of what I had just heard crashed into me like a tidal wave. The man who had once been a part of my life—my family’s betrayer, the one who had orchestrated their deaths—stood there, calmly, as if this was just another night for him.Leon’s grip on my hand tightened, but I didn’t let him pull me away. I could feel the air thickening with tension, the walls pressing in as everything I thought I knew began to crumble.The intruders were only moments away.The man—he—smirked, watching us. “You think this will end well? You’ve no idea what you’re up against. My people are everywhere.”I took a step forward, ignoring Leon’s silent plea to retreat. “You killed them. And you thought I would be the next one to fall in line?” My voice was a whisper, but it held a power I hadn’t realized I had. “You were wrong.”The man’s face faltered, just for a
Next Morning at the Estate Archives. The basement was cold and damp, and the air smelled of mildew and secrets. Old boxes lined the walls, labeled in my father’s tidy script. Financial records. Land deeds. Correspondence.Leon sifted through a crate of documents while I dug through another.Then something caught my eye.A faded folder labeled: Project Thornfield.I opened it slowly.Inside were blueprints—plans for development across coastal land that was supposed to be protected forest. There were signatures from multiple board members, including names I recognized.And then, one I didn’t.N. Vallis.Leon leaned over. “You know that name?”I shook my head. “No. But look here—he signed off on the project two weeks before my parents died.”Leon pulled out his phone. “I’ll run a background check.”I kept flipping through the documents—and found something that made my blood run cold.An aerial photo.Of the cliffside. Our property.With a giant red X drawn over the coordinates where my p
THREE WEEKS LATER...The investigation moved faster than I’d expected. With the board fully on our side now, the paper trail unraveled like a thread pulled from an old sweater—each piece of evidence exposing the next. Shell companies. Forged contracts. Witnesses who had remained silent out of fear but were finally coming forward.Still, no one had seen him since the day of the summit. He had vanished without a trace. No flights. No offshore activity. No messages. It was like he’d disappeared into smoke.But Dorian didn’t believe in ghosts. “He’s hiding,” he said as he handed me a thick folder. “And this—this will force him out.”I flipped through the documents. Bank records. A property registered under an alias. Hidden deep in the woods outside of Anacortes. I felt my stomach twist.Leon stepped up behind me, his hand grazing my shoulder. “Let’s pay him a visit.”The cabin was barely more than a shadow tucked between trees. No lights. No car. Just silence and the thrum of insects in t
Sunlight crept cautiously through the cracks in the blinds, casting golden slivers across the hardwood floor of the safe house bedroom. I sat curled up on the edge of the bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders and the journal heavy in my lap. The cover was cracked, worn with age and secrets. My fingers hovered over the first page for what felt like an eternity.Leon was nearby—he hadn’t slept much, either. He stood at the window with a mug of black coffee, watching the world outside with quiet alertness. When I finally opened the journal, he turned slightly but didn’t speak. He knew I needed silence for this.The first entry was dated nearly two decades ago.July 14th. We signed the contract today. Two families, one future. The woman from Delmar Holdings is more cunning than I expected. She knows we’re desperate—and she used it. I told Mariana to trust me. That this was the only way. God help me, I hope I’m right.My breath hitched. Mariana—that was my mother’s name.I flipped thro
MARGARETTE'S POVBefore we could react, the door behind us burst open.Three armed men rushed in, dressed in black, their movements precise and rehearsed. Leon shoved me behind him, drawing his gun up in an instant. Dorian, who had been lingering near the entrance, took cover behind a cabinet, gun already out.“Elise’s father wasn’t bluffing,” I breathed, my heart hammering. “He had backup ready.”Leon fired the first shot, catching one of the intruders in the shoulder and sending him crashing to the floor. Chaos erupted. Dorian ducked low and returned fire, narrowly missing another attacker who retaliated with a spray of bullets that shattered the windows.I crouched behind an overturned table, the sound of gunfire drowning out my thoughts. The locket in my palm dug into my skin, its edges sharp—a painful reminder that I couldn’t afford to lose control now.“Elise’s father!” I shouted to Leon. “He’s escaping!”Through the haze of smoke and broken glass, I saw the man slinking toward
The sound of footsteps pounding in the hallway was the last thing I heard before the door slammed open.I barely had time to react before a rush of armed men poured into the room, their eyes scanning every corner, landing finally on me. There was no mistaking the intent behind their cold stares.“Get down!” Leon’s voice crackled through the earpiece again, but there was no time to obey. I couldn’t allow myself to hesitate—not now, not when the truth was within reach.I raised my gun, my hands steady despite the chaos unfolding around me. I wasn’t going down without a fight, not after everything I had lost. Not after everything Elise’s father had taken from me.Before the first man could react, I fired. The sound of the shot echoed in the confined space, the bullet finding its mark in the man’s chest. His body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, but the others didn’t hesitate. They moved in faster, their guns drawn, but I was ready.I ducked behind the desk, using it as cover
Dawn came in silver slivers through the cracks in the window. I hadn’t slept—not really. My mind was too loud, looping the footage over and over like a broken reel.Leon sat across from me at the table, sipping his coffee like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Neither of us had said much since the footage. We didn’t need to. The truth had cut so deep, it didn’t leave room for small talk.But I had questions.And I needed answers.“How long do you think he’s known I survived?” I finally asked, voice hoarse.Leon didn’t look away from his mug. “Long enough to start covering his tracks. But he didn’t expect the locket to resurface.”My hand instinctively reached for it. The locket was warm now, like it had absorbed my grief and fury. Inside was a picture of my mother and me—her arm around my tiny shoulders, her smile soft but tired. A photo I hadn’t even remembered until last night.“He killed her,” I whispered. “He killed my father. For what? A project?”“Not just a project,”