Chapter 3 - The Shadow of Betrayal
Two days later, the Vale estate had transformed from a gloomy hospice into an armed war camp.
Gabriel Vale was sitting up in bed, supported by crisp white pillows. Though his left arm was in a sling and he was still visibly lean from weeks of fever, the color had returned to his face, and the lethal intelligence in his dark eyes was fully restored.
Sadie stood near the library window, holding a tray with a fresh cup of black coffee and a plate of toast. She was still wearing her simple housekeeper’s uniform, but her status in the house had shifted dramatically. Guards who used to ignore her now nodded respectfully when she walked down the corridors.
"Put the tray down, Sadie," Gabriel said softly.
Sadie walked over, placing the tray on the bedside table. "How is your shoulder feeling, Mr. Vale?"
"It hurts," Gabriel admitted, a faint smile touching his lips. "Which means the nerves are alive. Dr. Reed says I'll have full use of the arm in six weeks."
He reached out his right hand, gesturing for her to sit in the armchair beside the bed. Sadie hesitated, then sat down on the edge of the cushion.
"You haven't asked for your reward," Gabriel noted, watching her intently. "Most people who save my life demand money, protection, or favors."
"I don't want money, Mr. Vale," Sadie said quietly, looking down at her hands. "I just want to pay off my mother's medical debts so I can live a quiet life."
Gabriel leaned forward slightly. "How much is the debt?"
"Forty-two thousand dollars."
Gabriel didn't even blink. "Consider it paid. Today."
Sadie’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Mr. Vale... I can't accept that much—"
"You saved my life, Sadie. Forty-two thousand is a rounding error," Gabriel interrupted gently. He leaned back against his pillows, his expression growing serious. "Now, tell me about Dr. Aris. You said you saw him packing his bags three days ago?"
"Yes," Sadie nodded. "In the administrative wing. He was putting files into a leather briefcase. He looked nervous."
"Did he drop anything?"
Sadie paused, thinking back to that early morning when she had been polishing the brass door handles in the hallway. "He... he threw a crumpled piece of carbon paper into the hallway trash bin. I emptied the trash an hour later."
Gabriel’s eyes sharpened instantly. "Did you keep it?"
"I didn't think it was important at the time," Sadie admitted. "But... I don't empty the estate's main incinerator bags until Friday. It should still be in the recycling bin near the garage."
Gabriel immediately tapped a button on his bedside intercom. "Marcus. Bring two men and meet Sadie at the garage incinerator. Right now."
Ten minutes later, Sadie stood inside the drafty concrete garage, sifting through the clear plastic recycling bags with Marcus.
After five tense minutes, Sadie pulled out a crumpled sheet of blue carbon paper.
She smoothed it out carefully over a flat wooden crate.
In reverse, clear impression lines from a ballpoint pen were visible across the wax paper:
Payment received in full. Account 409-B, Grand Cayman. Final delivery confirmed at Port Alder Docks.
Below the text was a signature.
Marcus leaned over, squinting at the impression. His face went rigid.
"That's not just Aris's handwriting," Marcus growled under his breath. "That's the personal offshore account routing number for Victor Vance."
May you like
Sadie looked up at Marcus, confused. "Who is Victor Vance?"
Marcus looked at her with an expression of pure, chilling gravity. "Victor Vance is Gabriel's underboss. The man who sat at the foot of Gabriel's bed every night for three weeks... praying for him to die."
