Chapter 3 - The Files Inside My Apartment
Elias arrived at my apartment at 6:02 a.m.
Cynthia was with him.
So was Brenda.
They walked into the lobby carrying expensive luggage, claiming I had suffered “an emotional breakdown” after the wedding and that they needed to collect my personal effects.
The building manager almost let them upstairs.
Almost.
But the court order had already been served.
And my father’s security team was waiting.
From the live camera feed in Rebecca’s office, I watched Elias’s smile disappear when the elevator refused to open.
“Where is my wife?” he demanded of the building manager.
“You are not authorized to access the residence,” the manager replied.
“I own that apartment.”
“No,” a voice said from behind him.
Elias turned.
Rebecca entered the lobby with two investigators and a court officer.
“The property belongs to Ella Wilson,” she said. “Your access has been suspended pending investigation.”
Cynthia’s face tightened.
“This is ridiculous. Our son is married to her.”
“Marriage does not create ownership,” Rebecca replied. “Nor does fraud.”
Brenda stood behind them, one hand resting over her visibly pregnant stomach. She looked frightened now.
Not smug.
Not triumphant.
Frightened.
Elias looked directly into the lobby camera.
He knew I was watching.
“Ella,” he said, speaking toward the lens, “you need to stop this.”
I felt my hands shake.
Then I remembered him laughing under the hotel bed.
Plain rice.
Nothing.
A boring secretary.
I leaned toward the camera microphone.
“No.”
The apartment was searched under court supervision.
The investigators found the Westbrook files exactly where Cynthia had said they were: inside a locked cabinet in Elias’s home office.
But they also found a hidden compartment beneath the cabinet floor.
Inside were burner phones, printed contracts, forged trust documents, and a folder labeled J. WILSON INCIDENT.
My father stared at the folder for a long time before opening it.
Inside were records from the construction accident that killed Michael Hale.
But there was a detail no one expected.
The crane cable had not been altered by a subcontractor.
It had been altered by someone inside Wilson Development.
My father’s former vice president of operations.
Richard Voss.
Richard had been fired six years ago after an unrelated financial investigation. He vanished overseas before anyone could question him.
But now, in Elias’s files, we found messages between Richard, Cynthia, and Elias.
They had known the truth.
Cynthia had known Michael’s death was not my father’s fault.
Elias had known too.
He did not marry me for justice.
He married me because revenge was profitable.
And then we found the message that changed everything.
From Elias to Richard Voss:
Ella has access to the trust. Once she signs the final Westbrook documents, Jonathan will either accept the deal or lose his daughter with it.
My father’s face went pale.
“Lose his daughter,” I whispered.
Rebecca read the message again.
Then she looked at me.
“That is not financial language.”
No.
It was a threat.
May you like
And suddenly, my disappearance from the hotel was not only an escape.
It had ruined a plan that Elias was desperate to finish.
