Chapter 9

On the morning of my third day of house arrest, there were three soft taps on my window.

It was the signal I'd been waiting for.

I quietly opened the window. A man in black handed me a package. Inside was a new ID, a passport, and a plane ticket.

"Flight's at 2 PM. A car will be waiting at the back gate," he whispered.

I nodded. Staring at the documents that represented my freedom, my heart was a mix of emotions.

I had already packed a small bag with only the essentials and the few things my mother had left me. I didn't want anything else from this place.

At ten in the morning, I heard the rumble of engines. Peeking through the curtains, I saw Edmund arrive with a procession of black cars, his men in tow. He was wearing a sharp, black suit, looking impossibly handsome and imposing.

My replacement, Laura, appeared before him, her face hidden by a thick, heavy veil. It was a Schroder family tradition—the veil could only be lifted at the altar, after the vows. A tradition I was now deeply grateful for.

Edmund didn't suspect a thing. He carefully helped his bride down the stairs, whispering gently in her ear, "Don't be nervous. I'm right here."

I stood in the shadows of the upper landing, watching them, feeling nothing but a quiet calm. Edmund had always wanted a poised, respectable wife. Now he had one. I could only imagine his surprise when he lifted that veil.

The staff all left for the wedding, and the mansion fell silent.

I slipped out undetected and got into the discreet black car waiting at the back gate. But I didn't tell the driver to go just yet.

I took a small remote from my pocket and looked back at the sprawling estate.

This was once my home, the dream my mother had built with her own hands. Every room, every detail, was a piece of her heart. But it had become a place of betrayal, lies, and pain.

I couldn't let it stand. And I certainly couldn't let it fall into their hands.

"Miss, we should go, or you'll miss your flight," the driver urged.

I took one last look at the building, then pressed the red button without hesitation.

BOOM!

A deafening explosion ripped through the air. The massive estate was instantly engulfed in flames. Secondary explosions followed, sending fireballs and thick, black smoke billowing into the sky.

The driver nearly jumped out of his skin. "My God! What was that?!"

I watched the inferno, my voice perfectly calm. "My mother designed that house. I'd rather see it burned to the ground than let them have it."

"Let's go," I turned and gave the driver a clear command. "To the airport."

The car began to move, and I took one last look in the rearview mirror at the raging fire.

Goodbye, Chicago. Goodbye to my painful past.

And goodbye, Edmund.