Chapter 6 - The Trap Springs
Downstairs in the large modern kitchen, Maria was calmly plating a tray of fresh fruit and herbal tea for Arthur when the kitchen swinging door flew open with a violent crash.
Victoria stood in the doorway. Her pristine, flawless composure was completely shattered. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her eyes dilated with raw, unadulterated panic and rage. The sweet, giggling socialite was gone, replaced by a desperate, cornered predator.
"Where is it?" Victoria hissed, stepping aggressively into the kitchen, locking the heavy door behind her with a sharp click.
Maria didn't flinch. She turned slowly around, wiping her hands on a clean linen towel, her expression completely serene. "Good afternoon, Miss Sinclair. Is something the matter?"
"Don't play games with me, you wretched little maid!" Victoria shrieked, her voice dropping into a venomous snarl as she lunged forward, grabbing Maria by the collar of her uniform blouse. "You took it from the pillow! Where is the folio? Give it back right now, or I swear to God I will make sure Nathan throws you out on the street with nothing, and your precious mother in Queens will lose her apartment before nightfall!"
Maria looked down at Victoria’s trembling fingers clutching her collar, then slowly raised her eyes to meet Victoria’s frantic gaze without a single trace of fear.
"You talk about my mother, Victoria? After poisoning an old man who treated you like a daughter?" Maria’s voice was low, steady, and utterly chilling. "You were sloppy. Leaving the vials in an unlocked desk drawer? Leaving a diary full of your criminal blueprints stuffed inside a decorative pillow? Did you really think a billionaire’s estate is full of fools?"
Victoria’s face twisted in sheer horror as she realized Maria knew everything—every detail, every phase, every poisoned drop.
"You think you’ve won?" Victoria laughed maniacally, a hysterical edge to her voice as she reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. "You think Nathan will believe a lowly maid over his beautiful, adoring fiancée? I’ll tell him you broke into my room, stole my private family heirlooms, and tried to blackmail me! He trusts me, you stupid peasant! He loves me!"
"Does he?" a deep, resonant voice echoed from behind the locked kitchen door.
Victoria froze instantly, the blood draining from her face a second time.
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The heavy kitchen door slowly swung open—it hadn't been locked at all; Nathan had simply engaged the smart-lock override from his tablet on the other side.
Nathan Cole stood in the doorway, flanked by two private security officers and his personal legal counsel, Attorney Robert Vance. Nathan’s face was a mask of cold, terrifying granite. His eyes, usually warm when looking at Victoria, were now piercing shards of glacial ice.
