Chapter 4

The next few days were quiet. Eerily so. Brenda, Tiffany, and Liam moved around the house like ghosts, avoiding me. They spoke in whispers and scurried out of any room I entered. It was a welcome change.

My daughter, Olivia, began to recover. With the constant threat of Liam removed and my focused attention, the fear in her eyes started to recede. She let me check her temperature, take her medicine, and read her bedtime stories. Slowly, she began to smile again. She would crawl into my lap while I worked on Jake' s laptop, her small head resting against my chest. Each time she did, it fueled my resolve. This was what I was fighting for.

With the family subdued, I could focus on my real mission. I needed to find out everything. I started in Jake' s study.

It was a masculine room, all dark wood and leather, a reflection of the man he pretended to be. I spent hours going through his desk, his files, his computer. It was mostly business documents, contracts, and project proposals. Nothing incriminating. But I knew Jake. He was too careful to leave evidence out in the plain.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything out of place. And I found it. Behind a large, framed painting of a ship at sea, the wall looked different. I pushed the painting aside. There it was. A small, flush-mounted digital safe.

My heart beat a little faster. This had to be it.

I tried a few common combinations. His birthday. His mother' s birthday. Nothing. Then, a bitter thought occurred to me. I keyed in my own birthday. The keypad beeped, and a new light came on, asking for a fingerprint. Of course. Double security. I pressed Jake' s thumb to the scanner.

With a soft click, the safe opened.

Inside, there were stacks of documents. On the top shelf, I found the deed to the villa and a folder containing all the papers for my dowry. My parents had given me stocks, bonds, and a significant cash sum when I married Jake. He had taken it all. He had told me he was investing it for our future. It was all here, in his private safe.

My anger simmered. But it was what I found in the bottom compartment that made my blood run cold.

There were financial statements for two bank accounts I had never heard of, both with substantial balances. And beneath them, tucked away in a thick envelope, was an insurance policy. A life insurance policy.

Taken out on me, Chloe Miller, six months ago.

The beneficiary was Jake Stone.

The payout was ten million dollars.

There it was. The proof. The car crash wasn't just a random act of violence. It was a carefully planned, cold-blooded attempt at murder for a massive insurance payout. Brenda' s words in the hospital echoed in my mind. "The car accident... it didn' t go as planned."

The sheer, calculated evil of it stole my breath. He smiled at me every day, slept next to me every night, all while planning my death. The man I had loved, the father of my child, was a monster.

Suddenly, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my head, so intense it made me cry out and stumble back. The room spun.

And then I heard a voice. Not out loud, but inside my own head. It was Jake' s voice, but it was faint, confused, and filled with rage.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my body? Get out! Get out of my head!"

I clutched my temples, the pain blinding me. It was him. His consciousness. Trapped somewhere in the darkness, just as I had been. He was still here.

I gritted my teeth, focusing all my will. You will not win, I thought, directing the thought at the voice. This is my body now. You lost your chance.

I didn't say anything out loud. I just fought him, pushed back against his presence with all my mental strength. The voice screamed in frustration, a tinny, desperate sound in my skull.

"This is my study! My safe! What did you find? Chloe? Is that you, you bitch? Get out!"

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the voice faded. The pain in my head subsided to a dull throb. He was weak. His soul, or whatever was left of it, was weakened by the accident. But he was fighting back.

A new sense of urgency gripped me. I didn't know how long I had. I didn't know if he could regain control. I had to move faster. I had to dismantle his entire life before he had the chance to take it back.