Chapter 4 - WHISPERS IN THE DARK
Tension crackled through the air as the rehearsal dinner approached. The Herndon residence was dressed in suffocating extravagance—imported white roses, crystal chandeliers blindingly polished, and a string quartet playing in the courtyard. I moved through the room in a sleek emerald gown, playing the part of the radiant bride-to-be, while every nerve in my body was wired for war.
I needed to see Brianna. I hadn't seen her in person since the day in the kitchen.
I excused myself from a conversation with one of Elijah’s sleazy business partners and slipped down the servant’s corridor. The kitchen was empty. I moved toward the pantry, the storage room where I had first witnessed the nightmare. The door was locked. I knocked softly, twice, then once. The code we had agreed upon via text.
The lock clicked. The door opened a fraction, and a pale, bruised hand pulled me inside into the near darkness.
Brianna looked worse. She had a fresh cut on her cheekbone, poorly concealed with cheap foundation. But when she looked at me, there was a new light in her eyes. It wasn't the dead, defeated stare of a victim anymore; it was the sharp, desperate spark of a survivor.
“I got it,” she whispered, handing me a small, encrypted flash drive. “Everything. Elijah’s ledger. The passwords to the offshore accounts. He keeps a physical black book in his safe; I memorized the combination when he was drunk.”
“You’re incredible, Bri,” I breathed, pulling her into a gentle hug, mindful of her bruises. “This is the final nail in their coffin. Tomorrow at the altar. My security team will be waiting outside. The FBI has everything Marcus has fed them, but this ledger gives them the immediate probable cause they need to secure the perimeter.”
“Alyssa,” Brianna’s voice trembled. “Naomi suspects something. She saw me looking at the documents Elijah left on his desk. She beat me this morning. She told me that after the wedding, when they have your money, they’re going to send me to a 'private facility' in Mexico. They’re going to kill me, Alyssa.”
Rage flared hot and violent in my chest, but I forced it down. Cold logic was my weapon. “They aren’t sending you anywhere. Tomorrow, you are leaving this house with me. Just hold on for twelve more hours.”
Suddenly, the handle of the storage door rattled violently. We both froze.
“Brianna?” It was Gavin’s voice, sharp and commanding through the wood. “Are you in there skiving off? Mother wants the extra champagne flutes.”
I shoved the flash drive into my cleavage and nodded at Brianna. She took a deep breath, her demeanor instantly shifting back to the cowering servant. She opened the door.
Gavin stood there, his eyes narrowing as he saw me standing behind her. “Alyssa? What are you doing in the dark with her?”
I laughed, a bright, effortless sound that I had practiced for hours. “Oh, Gavin! You caught me. I was actually asking Brianna for a massive favor. I tore the hem of my dress on a chair and I knew she was good with a needle. We were just fixing it.” I stepped out into the light, pointing to a nonexistent tear near the floor.
May you like
Gavin’s suspicion faded, replaced by that familiar, condescending arrogance. He sneered at Brianna. “Well, at least she’s useful for something. Come back to the party, Alyssa. My father wants to finalize the contract signings before we cut the cake.”
I linked my arm through his, not looking back at Brianna. “Lead the way, darling. I can't wait to sign.”
