Chapter 4
The Secret of the Brakes
While Daniel secured the corporate front, Ava’s strength began to return. By the third day, the cognitive fog had lifted entirely, her eyes bright and alert as she sat up in her hospital bed. Rosa remained by her side, refusing to leave the safety of the private wing.
Daniel entered the room, carrying a small bouquet of white roses—Ava’s favorite. The moment she saw him, the tension in her shoulders vanished.
"Daniel," she said, her voice stronger now. "Rosa told me what Dr. Julian found in the medicine. I wasn't crazy. All those weeks when I told you I felt like I was drowning in my own mind... it was her."
"I am so sorry, Ava," Daniel said, dropping to his knees by the bed and holding her hands. "I should have seen it. I should have known my mother’s sudden kindness after your accident was too perfect to be real."
Ava’s expression turned deeply solemn. She looked over at Rosa, who gave her a slow, encouraging nod.
"Daniel, there's something else you need to know about the accident," Ava said, her voice dropping to a tense whisper. "The night before my brakes failed on the highway six months ago... I couldn't sleep. I went down to the kitchen to get a glass of warm milk. I heard my mother-in-law speaking to someone in the garage."
Daniel froze. "The garage?"
"She was talking to an unfamiliar man," Rosa interjected, stepping forward bravely. "I saw him from the servant's quarters window, Mr. Daniel. He was wearing a grease-stained jumpsuit. I heard Mrs. Margaret hand him a thick white envelope and say, 'Make sure it looks like a mechanical failure. She cannot arrive at the reading of the estate tomorrow.'"
The final piece of the puzzle fell into place with a terrifying, heavy click. Ava’s father had died seven months ago, leaving his entire wealth to Ava, with the stipulation that if she passed away or became incapacitated before her twenty-fifth birthday, the trusteeship would fall to the Sterling-Kane family matriarch.
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Margaret hadn't just tried to poison her in the study. She had engineered the horrific car crash that had crushed Ava's legs and confined her to that wheelchair in the first place. It was a cold-blooded, multi-layered plot of attempted murder that had begun half a year ago.
"Marcus," Daniel said into his earpiece, his voice vibrating with a quiet, lethal undercurrent. "Locate the mechanic who handled the forensic report on Ava's vehicle six months ago. Don't use the local police. Bring him to the safehouse immediately."
