Part 6
The private ambulance ride to St. Jude’s Clinic was silent, save for the steady beep of the heart monitor attached to Ava’s wrist.
Daniel sat beside her, holding her hand so tightly his fingers were numb.
Rosa sat across from them, her face bruised but her eyes filled with a quiet relief.
The city lights blinked past the tinted windows, a stark contrast to the dark, isolated mansion they had left behind.
Ava lay on the gurney, the IV fluids slowly flushing the toxins from her bloodstream.
Her eyes were open, tracing the lines of Daniel’s face as if making sure he was real, that this wasn't another drug-induced hallucination.
“Daniel…” she whispered, her voice stronger now that the poison was fading.
“I thought you hated me. She told me you called her from Chicago and said you couldn't bear to look at a broken wife anymore.”
Daniel closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against her trembling hand.
The pain of her words was a physical blow.
“I never said that, Ava. Never. I love you more than my own life. I was calling every hour. She told me you were too weak to hold the phone. She said the noise of the ringing made your seizures worse.”
A tear slid down Ava’s temple, sinking into the white pillow.
“She brought a doctor to the house every Tuesday. A man with cold hands. Dr. Evans. He would give me an injection, and then Margaret would bring out the documents. She would hold my hand, trying to force my fingers to trace the letters of my name.”
Daniel looked up, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle ticked violently in his cheek.
“Why didn't they just forge your signature, Arthur?” Daniel asked, turning to the attorney who was sitting in the front passenger seat.
Arthur turned around, his expression grim.
“Because the Vance trust has a unique security protocol established by your grandfather, Daniel. It requires a biometric digital verification along with the physical signature. The signing process must be recorded on a specialized tablet that measures the specific pressure and stroke patterns of the writer. A forgery would have triggered an automatic fraud alert to the federal bank. She needed Ava’s actual, physical hand to make the movements.”
The sheer cold calculation of the plot was staggering.
Margaret hadn't just wanted the money; she wanted the legal ironclad transfer so that even if Daniel found out later, he wouldn't be able to undo it without exposing the family to a massive public scandal that would destroy the company.
She had gambled that Daniel would choose the company’s reputation over his wife’s justice.
She had gambled wrong.
“Where is Dr. Evans now?” Daniel asked.
“Our security team has secured his private clinic in the city,” Arthur replied.
“He tried to pack a bag and leave for the airport the moment he realized the ledger audit had begun. We intercepted him. He is currently sitting in his office with two of our guards, waiting for your instruction.”
Daniel looked down at Ava.
The color was slowly returning to her lips.
The vacant, terrified look in her eyes was being replaced by something else.
Something Margaret had never expected Ava to possess.
A quiet, burning desire for retribution.
“We aren't going to the police yet, Arthur,” Daniel said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“First, we are going to make Dr. Evans talk. Every single detail. Every pill, every injection, every conversation he had with my mother.”
Ava’s fingers tightened around Daniel’s.
“I want to be there,” she said, her voice small but entirely firm.
Daniel looked at her, surprised.
“Ava, you're weak. You need to rest.”
May you like
“No,” Ava said, lifting her head slightly from the pillow, her eyes locked onto his.
“I’ve been hiding in the dark for three months, Daniel. I want to watch them fall.”
