Chapter 3

Right then, my phone buzzed with an alert from my smart home app.

"Motion detected in the living room."

I frowned.

At this hour, Carter should be at the office, and the housekeeper had the day off.

I opened the app, and the live stream loaded.

The living room camera was facing the sofa area. Melanie's figure appeared on screen.

Carter was leaning back on the sofa, his tie loosely hanging around his neck. Melanie had changed into a sheer, silk slip dress that clung softly to her body. She was sitting on Carter's lap, slowly and deliberately unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt with her fingertips.

Carter didn't push her away. Instead, he slid his hand down her hair, letting it rest on her waist, giving it a soft squeeze.

Carter's breathing became noticeably heavy.

The living room lights cast their shadows together, tangling into one.

Staring at the screen, a wave of coldness hit my stomach, and a sickening feeling rose in my throat.

"Carter," her voice was so soft it could melt, "do you know how much my heart aches every time Tyler calls me Aunt Melanie? He's supposed to call me…"

"Melanie!" Carter interrupted her sharply, turning his face away to dodge her touch.

Yet, his hand gripping her wrist didn't let go.

At that moment, I felt like something inside my heart completely shattered.

The rest of the footage was too repulsive to watch.

I saved the recording.

I closed the app and tossed the phone aside.

My stomach churned. I ran to the bathroom sink of the old house and dry-heaved, but nothing came up. Only a burning pain radiated from my chest to my entire body.

My phone kept buzzing on the bed.

It took me a long time to recover enough to walk back and look at it.

The investigator's messages were popping up one after another.

"Mrs. Sterling, I found it."

"Melanie Sterling entered the US in July eighteen years ago. In August, she gave birth to a full-term baby boy at a private hospital in Los Angeles. The blood type record was B positive."

"I retrieved the records from the maternity hospital on the day you gave birth. Between 3:00 PM and 5:00 PM that day, two baby girls were born. The hospital they were transferred to has shut down, and the physical archives are lost."

"But when Melanie went to the US again in November of that year, she had a baby girl of about five months old with her."

"The girl is currently working under the table at a local Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. According to the restaurant owner and neighbors, she lives in extreme poverty, has an isolated personality, and often has unexplained bruises on her body. Melanie collects most of her wages every month through a middleman."

Photos were attached.

One showed a back alley. A thin, frail girl was carrying a massive black trash bag.

Another showed her curled up on a stool in the corner of a restaurant, eating cold leftovers with a blank expression.

The latest one was a close-up of her arm, covered in dark bruises.

In a place so far away, she was doing the hardest labor, getting beaten, and the money she earned was being handed over to the woman who stole her entire life.

A tidal wave of pure hatred instantly consumed me.

I stood up, my vision going black for a few seconds.

I leaned against the wall, digging my nails hard into my palms. The sharp pain kept me conscious.

I cried for a long time, until my tears ran dry, leaving only a searing ache in my chest.

I forwarded all the evidence, including the surveillance footage, to my lawyer, and then called Carter's biggest business rival.

"I can sign the patent licensing agreement tomorrow, but under one condition: Vance Enterprises must go bankrupt."

A low, calm male voice came through the line, filled with absolute certainty.

"No problem."

Hanging up, I looked at the files in my phone.

Carter Vance, I built you up, and I can tear you down just as easily.