Maya's POV
I need to see Victoria's body.
Damien looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Absolutely not.
She was murdered. Staged to look like suicide. You said so yourself. I paced Reyna's apartment, my mind racing. Which means the killer left clues. Evidence. Something that will tell us who's next.
The police are investigating—
The police think it's suicide! I spun to face him. We have 48 hours before someone else dies. I'm not waiting for them to figure out what we already know.
Damien's jaw clenched. Even if I could get you access to the crime scene, which I can't, what exactly do you think you'll find?
I don't know. But Victoria was hiding something. My father's files say she was stealing my mother's patents. If she was killed for that—
Then the killer is covering their tracks. And you walking into Victoria's house makes you the next target.
I'm already a target! The words came out sharper than I meant. Someone broke into my apartment. Someone's been following me. Someone sent me flowers shaped like a coffin. I'm a target whether I investigate or hide.
Damien moved closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space. Then let me investigate. You stay here, stay safe—
No. I lifted my chin. We do this together. You promised to protect me, not lock me away.
His eyes burned into mine. You're going to get yourself killed.
Then you better keep me alive.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then Damien pulled out his phone.
I'm calling in a favor. But Maya His voice dropped dangerously low. You do exactly what I say. You don't touch anything without gloves. You don't talk to anyone. And if I say run, you run. Understood?
Understood.
Twenty minutes later, we stood outside Victoria's penthouse. Police tape crossed the door, but Damien had contacts, a detective who owed him favors and agreed to give us fifteen minutes before the scene was officially released.
Clock's ticking, the detective said, letting us in. Don't make me regret this.
Inside, Victoria's home was pristine. Too pristine. Like someone had cleaned up after themselves.
Suicide was staged in the bathroom, Damien said quietly, leading me down the hall. Pills and alcohol. But the toxicology will show she was already dead when someone forced the pills down her throat.
My stomach turned. How do you know?
Because I've seen staged suicides before. They're never this neat.
The bathroom was exactly as he described—bottle of pills, empty wine glass, Victoria's body already removed but the scene preserved.
What are we looking for? I whispered.
Anything that doesn't fit. Anything that tells us why she was killed first.
I moved through the apartment while Damien examined the bathroom. Victoria's bedroom was organized, professional. Her home office was the same.
Then I saw her computer.
Damien, I called quietly.
He appeared in the doorway. Don't—
I'm wearing gloves. I sat at Victoria's desk. And her computer is still on. Whoever killed her left in a hurry.
The screen showed her email. I scrolled through quickly.
There—encrypted emails to GeneMed Corporation.
My father's files were right. Victoria had been planning to steal my mother's patents.
Look at this. I pulled up an email chain. She was offering to bring the patents to GeneMed for two hundred million dollars. The deal was supposed to close— My blood went cold. The week my father died.
Damien read over my shoulder. He found out. Confronted her.
And then he died. You think she killed him?
Maybe. Or someone killed her to keep her quiet about who really did it. He pointed at the screen. Keep looking. There has to be more.
I clicked through files. Research data. Medical trials. Budget reports.
Then I found a folder labeled: RICHARD - PRIVATE.
Damien.
Inside were voice recordings. I clicked the first one.
My father's voice filled the room: Victoria, I trusted you. I gave you everything—resources, freedom, the chance to honor Elena's legacy. And you repay me by stealing?
Victoria's voice, defensive: You don't understand. The company won't fund what we need. GeneMed will. They'll give me the resources to save millions
By stealing my dead wife's work! By betraying everything she stood for!
Elena would want her inventions used to help people, not locked behind corporate profit margins!
Don't you dare use her name to justify theft.
The recording ended.
I opened the next one. Dated three days before my father died.
Victoria's voice, but she was talking to someone else. Male voice, distorted, impossible to identify:
He's going to expose me. I'll lose everything.
Then we move forward with the other plan.
I can't—I won't—
You will. Or I'll make sure you go down for this alone.
You're asking me to kill him!
I'm asking you to survive. Your choice.
The recording ended.
My hands shook. Victoria was being blackmailed into killing my father.
Or she's lying on the recording to protect herself, Damien said. Creating false evidence in case she got caught.
But if someone was blackmailing her
Then that person killed her to tie up loose ends. And that person is one of the other four heirs.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number: Found the recordings, did you? Good girl. But here's what you're missing: Victoria didn't kill your father. She couldn't go through with it. So someone else did it for her, and now she's dead because she knew too much.
Another message: Want to know who the voice on the recording belongs to? Check Victoria's safe. Code is her sister's birthday.
How do they know about the safe? I breathed. How do they know we're here?
Damien pulled me away from the window immediately. They're watching. Camera, drone, someone outside—move!
Wait—Victoria's sister's birthday. Do you know it?
No. Do you?
I searched Victoria's files frantically. Found a photo in her desk drawer—Victoria with a young woman who looked like her, celebrating a birthday. The cake read: Happy 24th Birthday Lisa. The date on the photo: March 15th.
March 15th, I told Damien. Try 0315.
He found the safe behind a painting. Entered the code.
It opened.
Inside: a USB drive, an envelope, and a small black book.
Damien grabbed all three. We need to leave. Now.
But the detective said fifteen minutes
That was twelve minutes ago, and someone knows we're here. Move!
We ran.
In the car, Damien drove while I opened the envelope with shaking hands.
Inside was a letter. Victoria's handwriting:
If you're reading this, I'm dead. I couldn't live with what I almost did. Richard Sinclair was a good man, and I was weak. Someone approached me six months ago with an offer: help them kill Richard, and they'd make sure I got away clean with the patents and the money. I refused. But they had evidence of my theft. They blackmailed me. I tried to find another way, tried to warn Richard without exposing myself. I failed.
I don't know who they are. They only contacted me through encrypted channels. But I know this: they're one of the other heirs. They have to be. They knew too much about Richard's security, his schedule, his weaknesses.
If they killed Richard and now they're killing me, they won't stop. Not until all six heirs are dead and they control everything.
Find them. Stop them. And tell Maya Sinclair I'm sorry.
—Victoria Chen
Tears blurred my vision. She tried to warn him. She tried to stop it.
And someone killed her for it, Damien said grimly.
I plugged the USB drive into my phone. More files. More recordings.
And one video file labeled: THE TRUTH.
I clicked it.
The video showed a parking garage. Recent—the timestamp was from two weeks ago.
Victoria appeared on screen, meeting someone whose face was hidden by shadows.
Victoria's voice: I can't do this anymore. I'm going to tell Maya everything.
The shadowy figure: Then you're signing your death warrant.
I don't care. I won't let you destroy the company. I won't let you keep killing.
Keep killing? Victoria, I haven't killed anyone. Yet.
You killed Richard!
No. Someone else did that. But I know who. And if you tell Maya, I'll make sure she thinks you did it. I have evidence. I have recordings. I can destroy you.
Victoria stepped back. Who are you protecting?
The only person worth protecting. Myself.
The figure stepped into the light.
My heart stopped.
The face on the screen made my world tilt.
It was Sophia Laurent.
The quiet assistant. The mysterious woman with the fake identity.
Natasha's secret sister.
She's the killer, I breathed.
Or she's protecting the killer, Damien said. Either way, she's next on our list.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number: Wrong again, Maya. Sophia isn't the killer. She's the NEXT victim. You have 36 hours to save her—if you want to. Or you can let her die and cross another suspect off your list. Your choice.
Tick tock.
P.S. - The person you should really be worried about? They're standing right next to you.
I looked at Damien.
He was reading the same message on his phone.
His eyes met mine, dark and unreadable.
Maya—
Don't. My voice shook. Don't say anything.
You think it's me.
I don't know what to think anymore!
Then think about this. He pulled the car over, turned to face me. If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. If I wanted Sophia dead, she'd be dead. If I was the killer, why would I help you find evidence? Why would I show you Victoria's recordings?
To make me trust you. To make me drop my guard.
Pain flashed across his face. After everything—you still think I'm the monster.
I think everyone's a monster until proven otherwise! Tears burned my eyes. Victoria's dead. Sophia's next. And someone just told me the person I should worry about is standing right next to me. Who else is next to me, Damien?
Silence filled the car.
Then his phone rang.
He answered, listened, and his face went white.
What? I demanded.
Sophia Laurent just checked into St. Mary's Hospital. Unconscious. Suspected poisoning. He looked at me. We're already too late.
My phone buzzed one final time.
See what happens when you waste time suspecting the wrong person? Sophia might die because you chose to investigate Victoria instead of protecting the next victim.
Two down, four to go.
Choose faster next time, Maya.
Or everyone you're starting to care about will die.
And I realized with horror: the killer wasn't just eliminating heirs.
They were making me choose who lived and who died.
And I was failing every test.