Three Months

The clock on the wall said 7:00 AM.

I had been awake for three hours. The bedroom was empty. Rex had left sometime before dawn. His side of the bed was cold. The pillow still smelled like him. Cedar and gunpowder.

I sat up. Stared at the camera in the ceiling. The red light was back. Lin had disabled it last night. Someone had turned it on again.

Isabella was watching.

Or maybe someone else.

My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.

Three months start today. Tick tock.

The pregnancy deadline. The deal my father made. Three months to give Rex an heir.

I had my tubes tied at eighteen. There would be no heir. Not now. Not ever.

Rex knew. He had known for two years. He married me anyway.

But Victor did not know. The man pretending to be Victor. The body double. He expected a grandchild. He expected proof. He expected me to perform.

I typed back.

Who is this?

No answer.

I called Rex. He answered on the first ring.

"Where are you?"

"In my study. Your mother is here. We are reviewing the files."

"The body double sent me a message. Three months start today."

Silence.

"Rex?"

"I heard you. I am trying to figure out how he knew."

"Maybe Isabella told him."

"Maybe. Or maybe the traitor told him."

"The traitor is Mrs. Park. Lin confirmed it."

"Lin confirmed the gait analysis. That does not mean Mrs. Park is working alone."

"Who else would be working with her?"

"I do not know yet. That is what we are trying to find out."

I found them in the study.

Rex sat behind his desk. My mother sat across from him. A tablet was on the desk between them. Security footage. Photographs. Documents.

"Show me," I said.

Rex turned the tablet toward me.

The screen showed a woman. Dark hair. Dark clothes. Face covered.

"Mrs. Park," Rex said. "Entering Marco's room the night he died."

"Are you sure it is her?"

"Gait analysis is 98% accurate. Same height. Same weight. Same stride."

"Then she killed Marco."

"Maybe. Or maybe she found the body and panicked. We do not know yet."

My mother spoke. Her voice was quiet.

"I have known Mrs. Park for twenty years. She is not a killer."

"People change," Rex said.

"Not her. She is a mother. She loves her daughter. She would not risk going to prison."

"Unless someone threatened her daughter."

My mother went pale.

"That is what I would do," she said. "If I wanted to control someone, I would threaten their child."

"You speak from experience."

My mother looked at me. Her eyes were wet.

"Yes. I speak from experience."

The room was silent.

I sat down on the couch. My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against my thighs.

"Who would threaten Mrs. Park's daughter?" I asked.

"Isabella," Rex said. "She has the resources. She has the motive. She wants the empire."

"Isabella is not smart enough."

"Then your mother."

"I am sitting right here," my mother said. "And I already told you. I blackmailed Mrs. Park. But I did not threaten her daughter. I saved her daughter. There is a difference."

"Not to Mrs. Park."

"No. Not to her."

"Then who?"

My mother looked at the tablet. At the photograph of Mrs. Park in the hallway.

"There is someone else," she said. "Someone we have not considered. Someone who has been here the whole time."

"Who?"

"Victor."

I shook my head. "Victor is dead. You saw the body. You watched the doctor pronounce him dead."

"I saw a body. I watched a doctor pronounce someone dead. That does not mean it was Victor."

"You think he faked his death?"

"I think it is possible. He is smart enough. Cruel enough. Patient enough."

"And you think he has been hiding for three years? Watching? Waiting?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he wants revenge. Against me. Against Rex. Against everyone who betrayed him."

Rex stood up. Walked to the window.

"If Victor is alive, he is the traitor. He is the one blackmailing Mrs. Park. He is the one who killed Marco."

"And he is the one who sent me the message," I said. "Three months start today."

Rex turned. His face was dark.

"He wants proof of an heir."

"Yes."

"Because he wants to know if you are loyal to him or to me."

"Loyal?"

"If you give him a grandchild, you are his. If you do not, you are mine."

"That makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense. Victor wants control. He always has. A grandchild gives him leverage. Over you. Over me. Over everyone."

My mother stood up. Walked to Rex's desk. Picked up the tablet.

"We need to find Mrs. Park," she said. "Before Victor does. She is the key to all of this."

"She is the traitor," Rex said.

"She is a pawn. Just like us. Victor is using her. Just like he uses everyone."

"How do we find her?"

My mother pulled out her phone. Typed a message.

"I have a contact. Someone who owes me a favor. They can track her phone."

"You trust this contact?"

"I trust that they want to stay alive."

The message sent. My mother put down her phone.

"Now we wait."

"I am tired of waiting," I said.

"Then do something."

"Like what?"

My mother looked at me. Her green eyes met mine.

"Go see Isabella. She knows more than she is telling. Make her talk."

"Make her how?"

"However you have to."

I drove to Victor's estate alone.

Rex wanted to come. I said no. My mother wanted to come. I said no. This was between me and my sister.

The estate was dark. The gates were open. I parked in the circular driveway. Walked to the front door. Did not knock. Walked inside.

"Isabella!"

No answer.

"Isabella, I know you are here."

A light flickered on in the living room. Isabella sat on the couch. A glass of wine in her hand. Her eyes were red. She had been crying.

"You look terrible," she said.

"So do you."

She laughed. It was a hollow sound.

"What do you want, Mira?"

"The truth."

"About what?"

"About Victor. About the body double. About the traitor."

Isabella set down her wine. Stood up. Walked to the window.

"Victor is dead," she said. "I watched him die."

"You watched the body double die. Marco. The man you were sleeping with."

Isabella flinched.

"You knew," I said. "You knew he was not Father."

"Not at first. But yes. I figured it out."

"When?"

"Six months ago. He let something slip. A detail about my childhood. Something the real Victor would have known."

"What did he say?"

"It does not matter."

"It matters to me."

Isabella turned. Her eyes were hard.

"He said that you were never supposed to be born. That Mother was supposed to get rid of you. But she refused. And Victor never forgave her."

I said nothing.

"That is the kind of man Victor was," Isabella continued. "Cruel. Vengeful. He would have killed you if he could. But Mother protected you. She always protected you."

"She faked her death."

"To protect you."

"She left me."

"To keep you alive."

I walked to the window. Stood beside my sister.

"Who killed Marco?" I asked.

"I do not know."

"Who is the traitor?"

"I do not know."

"Who is threatening to kill Lin?"

Isabella looked at me. Her eyes were wet.

"I do not know, Mira. I am not the villain you think I am. I am just a girl who wanted to be loved. And I ended up in bed with a corpse's puppet."

"That is not my fault."

"No. It is mine. I made my choices. Now I am living with the consequences."

"Then help me."

"How?"

"Tell me everything you know about Mrs. Park."

Isabella's face went pale.

"Mrs. Park?"

"Yes. She is the traitor. Or she is being blackmailed. Either way, she knows who killed Marco."

"I cannot..."

"You can. You will."

Isabella walked to the couch. Sat down. Picked up her wine.

"Mrs. Park's daughter is not in Vermont," she said. "That was a lie. Mother lied to you."

"What?"

"Her daughter is here. In the city. Victor has her. Or whoever is pretending to be Victor."

"How do you know?"

"Because I saw her. Last week. In the basement of this house."

My blood went cold.

"She is here? Right now?"

Isabella nodded.

"She is in the basement. And she is not alone."

"Who is with her?"

Isabella looked at the floor.

"Mrs. Park. She is here too. They are both here. Victor is using them as bait."

"Bait for what?"

"For you, Mira. He wants you to come. He wants you to walk into his trap."

I walked to the door.

"Mira, wait."

I did not wait.

The basement stairs were dark. The light at the bottom was flickering. I reached for my gun.

It was still there.

I walked down.