PART 3 — THE END
I woke up three days later in a hospital in Nassau.
The first thing I saw was my father’s lawyer.
Mr. Vance.
He stood beside my bed holding a thick black folder.
“The family has already announced your death,” he said.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“They held a press conference yesterday.”
He placed his phone in front of me.
There was Lucas.
Standing behind a podium.
Tears running down his face.
“My wife was the love of my life,” he told the cameras.
“We are devastated by her disappearance.”
Behind him stood Roderick and Gertrude.
Perfectly dressed.
Perfectly grieving.
Perfectly lying.
Lucas had even announced the creation of a charity foundation in my name.
A foundation that would supposedly “honor my life.”
I almost laughed.
“He thinks I’m dead.”
Mr. Vance nodded.
“Exactly.”
He opened the black folder.
“Which gives us one advantage.”
Inside were bank transfers, forged documents, passport records, offshore accounts, and photographs recovered from Lucas’s phone.
And there was more.
Valery had recovered evidence from the yacht before authorities seized it.
Mr. Vance looked at me.
