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Chapter 10

last update publish date: 2026-03-26 02:36:28

I read the message three times.

Each time I read it my thumb pressed harder against the screen, like pressing harder would change the words or rearrange them into something less terrible. They stayed the same every time.

Your mother is in more danger than you know.

Delia had written that.

Delia, who had spent two years sitting across from me at dinner tables and sharing hallway bathrooms and borrowing my umbrella without asking. Delia, who had been sleeping with my boyfriend the entire time. De
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  • The Man Who Was Supposed To Die   Chapter 11

    Nobody in that car moved.Not Marcus, not Daniel, not me, and certainly not Damien, who was sitting completely still in the front seat with his eyes fixed on the window and his hands resting on his knees like two stones.Roland stood behind the glass and looked at us, and we looked at him, and the whole street held its breath around us.He did not look surprised.That was the thing that made my skin go cold.A man who comes home unexpectedly and finds a car full of people parked outside his house should look surprised. He should look confused, or alarmed, or at the very least curious. Roland looked like none of those things.He looked like a man checking that his order had arrived."He knew we were coming," I said.My voice came out steady, which was impressive considering what my chest was doing."Yes," Damien said."Delia," I said. Not accusingly. Just putting it together out loud. "He found out she messaged me. He read the messages.""She said he checks her phone," Marcus said quie

  • The Man Who Was Supposed To Die   Chapter 10

    I read the message three times.Each time I read it my thumb pressed harder against the screen, like pressing harder would change the words or rearrange them into something less terrible. They stayed the same every time.Your mother is in more danger than you know.Delia had written that.Delia, who had spent two years sitting across from me at dinner tables and sharing hallway bathrooms and borrowing my umbrella without asking. Delia, who had been sleeping with my boyfriend the entire time. Delia, who had smiled at me with Roland's eyes and her mother's mouth and I had never once looked closely enough to see what was underneath all of it.My thumb hovered over the screen.Across the room, Damien was still holding Daniel's letter, his eyes moving over it a second time, his free hand hanging loose at his side. Vivienne had pressed two fingers to her mouth and was staring at the carpet. Daniel was standing near the bookshelf, not touching anything, with the posture of someone who had le

  • The Man Who Was Supposed To Die   Chapter 9

    There are moments in life that stop you completely.Not the loud dramatic ones, not the ones with alarms and broken locks and men sneaking through east wing corridors in the dark. The quiet ones. The ones where a single sentence lands in the middle of a room and changes the shape of everything around it.This was one of those moments.Damien said it again, slower this time, like he was testing the words to make sure they were real."I do not have a brother."Marcus held the phone away from his ear and looked at it briefly, the way people look at things that are not behaving the way they should. Then he put it back. "Security says the man at the gate is claiming his name is Daniel Voss, sir. He has identification."Damien's face was unreadable.I had been watching his face long enough by now to know the difference between the expressions he controlled and the ones that slipped through before he could catch them. This one was controlled. Very deliberately, very carefully controlled, whi

  • The Man Who Was Supposed To Die   Chapter 8

    Damien moved first.He was already out the door and into the corridor before the second wave of alarms hit, walking fast with that controlled urgency that was somehow more frightening than running would have been. I was right behind him, my heart slamming against my ribs, my mind trying to catch up with what was happening.The whole estate had come alive.Staff were moving in every direction, doors were opening, voices were calling out across floors, and through it all the alarms kept screaming, sharp and relentless, bouncing off the marble walls and filling every room with sound.Marcus appeared at the end of the corridor, phone to his ear, already talking fast.Damien reached him in four strides. "Where.""East wing," Marcus said. "Ground floor. Someone cut the feed on two cameras before they came through.""How many.""We think two. Maybe three."Damien turned to me. His eyes were sharp and very calm, the way deep water is calm, still on the surface and full of current underneath.

  • The Man Who Was Supposed To Die   Chapter 7

    She came alone. Good.Those words were still ringing in my ears when Marcus grabbed my arm and pulled me back further into the doorway.He had heard it too.He put one finger to his lips and I nodded and we both stood very still in the shadow of that doorway while Dr. Hale finished his phone call at the end of the corridor. I could not hear the rest of what he said. His voice had dropped too low. But I watched his body language and that told me enough. He was not having a casual conversation. His shoulders were tight. He kept glancing toward the lift. He was waiting for something.Or someone.Marcus leaned close to my ear and said in a voice so quiet it was barely a breath, "We need to leave. Different way. Follow me."I followed.He moved fast and quiet for a big man, taking us back down the corridor in the direction we came from but turning left instead of right, through a set of double doors marked Staff Only and down a stairwell that smelled like cleaning products and old carpet.

  • The Man Who Was Supposed To Die   Chapter 6

    Dr. HaleHis name was Dr. Hale.Dr. Patrick Hale. My mother's primary physician for the past two years. The man who called me every time her condition changed. The man whose voice I had come to associate with either relief or dread depending on the first three words out of his mouth. The man who had sat across from me in a consultation room eight months ago and explained, gently and carefully, exactly what my mother needed to survive.He was the one who told me the surgery cost four hundred thousand dollars.He was the one who told me there was no other way.I picked my phone up off the floor. My hands were not entirely steady."That is her doctor," I said. My voice came out strange. Flat and far away like it was coming from another room. "He is the one who told me about the surgery. He is the one who told me how much it cost."Damien was already on his phone. He said one sentence to whoever answered. "Get me everything there is on a Dr. Patrick Hale. Medical license, financial recor

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