Chapter 3: The Woman Who Knew Too Much
Across town, Victoria Hale wasn’t running.
She was planning.
Inside a dimly lit penthouse, she poured herself a glass of wine, her reflection sharp and unshaken in the glass window. The city glittered beneath her, but her eyes were fixed on something darker.
“They found her,” she said calmly into the phone.
A pause.
Then a voice on the other end: “That shouldn’t be possible.”
Victoria smirked. “Nothing is impossible. Just… inconvenient.”
She glanced down at a file spread across the table—documents, photos, signatures.
Adoption records.
Death certificates.
Forged.
Burned.
Rewritten.
“Adrian thinks he’s protecting his sister,” she continued. “He has no idea what she really is.”
May you like
Her smile faded.
“Or what she knows.”
