“Cover It Up.” My Husband Hit Me for Refusing His Mother Moving In—The Next Morning, He Handed Me Expensive Makeup—Never Knowing the Bruise, the Recordings, and My Hidden Millions Would Destroy Them Both by Lunchtime

Silas let out a dry, rattling laugh that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“Federal marshals, Mrs. Vance?” Silas murmured, pulling a sleek black smartphone from his breast pocket and tapping the screen. “Do you honestly believe small-town police can protect you from the organization that engineered the complete destruction of Vale Real Estate in under forty-eight hours?”

He casually spun the smartphone around, showing us the live video feed streaming on the screen.

My heart stopped.

The screen showed a high-definition, real-time camera angle looking directly at the glass storefront of Emily’s new art gallery downtown. Centered right on the front window was a small, steady red laser sight.

Emily let out a choked gasp, burying her face in Lily’s soft hair.

“My employer values silence above all things, Margaret,” Silas said, his polite tone dropping into a terrifying, guttural whisper. “Before Richard passed away, he stole a very sensitive piece of property from us—a master ledger containing our private financial networks. We know he concealed it inside this house alongside your daughter’s trust fund.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied seamlessly, keeping my face completely expressionless despite the chaos screaming in my head.

“You are a remarkably clever woman, Margaret,” Silas said, adjusting his leather gloves. “You dismantled the Vale family with magnificent precision. I respect that. So I will offer you a very simple grace period.”

He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine with ruthless intent.

“You have exactly forty-eight hours to open your husband’s vault, retrieve our master ledger, and transfer the ten million dollars from the trust fund to an account I specify. If you comply, your family lives.”