We didn't go back to the estate.
Too exposed. Too many memories of betrayal.
Instead, Alexander took us to a safehouse in the city. Twentieth floor. Bulletproof windows. Security tighter than a bank vault.
Mrs. Chen sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, hands shaking around a cup of tea.
She looked smaller. Frailer. Broken.
"I'm sorry," she whispered for the hundredth time. "I'm so sorry."
I sat beside her. Alexander stood by the windows, rigid with tension.
"Tell us everything," I said gently. "From the beginning."
She closed her eyes. "I came to work for the Knight family when Alexander's father, Robert, was in his thirties. I was just a housekeeper. But I saw things. Heard things."
"What things?" Alexander's voice was carefully controlled.
"Meetings late at night. Men with dangerous eyes. Money exchanging hands. Your father wasn't just a businessman, Alexander. He was... something else."
"A criminal," Alexander said flatly.
"Yes." Tears slid down her cheeks. "He laundered money for organized crime. Facilitated weapons deals. Even... even human trafficking. I didn't understand it all at first. But over the years, I pieced it together."
My stomach turned. "And my mother discovered this?"
"She was on a charity board with James. One night, she found documents he'd left in a conference room. Receipts. Names. Evidence of everything. She came to me because she knew I worked for the family. She asked if I knew what it meant."
"What did you tell her?" I asked.
"The truth." Mrs. Chen's voice broke. "That the Knight family was dangerous. That if she went to the authorities, they'd kill her. I begged her to destroy the documents and forget what she'd seen."
"But she didn't," Alexander said.
"No. She said she couldn't live with herself if she stayed silent. Children were being hurt. Families destroyed. She said she had to do something." Mrs. Chen looked at me. "She was so brave. So good. Like you."
My throat tightened. "What happened next?"
"She went to Robert. Alexander's father. She gave him a choice—shut down the operations or she'd expose everything. She thought... she thought he'd be reasonable. That threatening exposure would be enough."
"He killed her," I whispered.
"He had James do it. Made it look like an accident. Then paid everyone off to bury it." Mrs. Chen grabbed my hands. "I tried to stop it. I swear I did. But Robert threatened Alexander. He was only eleven. Robert said if I told anyone—anyone—he'd hurt his own son. So I stayed silent. And your mother died. And I've lived with that guilt every day since."
Silence filled the room.
Alexander turned from the window. His face was carved from stone. "You let her die to protect me."
"Yes."
"You let an innocent woman be murdered. Let a little girl lose her mother. Let a killer walk free. All for me."
"I know." She stood, facing him. "I know what I did was wrong. Unforgivable. But Alexander, you were a child. And I loved you. I couldn't let him hurt you."
"So you sacrificed someone else's child instead."
The words were brutal. True.
Mrs. Chen's face crumpled. "Yes. God forgive me, yes."
I wanted to hate her. Should have hated her.
But looking at this broken old woman who'd spent decades drowning in guilt, I just felt... empty.
"You should have told me," Alexander said quietly. "All these years. You should have told me what kind of man my father was."
"I wanted to. But after he died, I thought... I thought maybe the past could stay buried. That you could be free of it. That you could be better than him."
"I am him." Alexander's voice was hollow. "I built my empire on his blood money. Every company I bought, every deal I made—it was all funded by his crimes. By the money he made destroying lives."
"No." I stood, moving to him. "You're not him. You didn't know."
"Does that matter?" He looked at me. "Every dollar I have is tainted. Every success built on suffering. How am I any different?"
"Because you're trying to make it right." I touched his face. "Because when you found out, you didn't hide it. Didn't protect yourself. You exposed James. Helped arrest him. You're doing what my mother tried to do."
"Too late."
"Not too late." I held his gaze. "We can still finish what she started. Expose all of it. Clean up the Knight legacy. Make something good from all this darkness."
He searched my face. "Even if it destroys me? Destroys us?"
"Especially then." I smiled sadly. "Because that's what being good means. Doing the right thing even when it costs everything."
Something shifted in his expression. Pain. Pride. Love.
"How are you real?" he whispered.
"I'm not sure I am."
He pulled me close. Held me tight.
Behind us, Mrs. Chen wept quietly.
Three hours later, Alexander made the call.
To the FBI. To the press. To everyone.
He gave them everything. Every file his father had hidden. Every crime. Every name.
Including his own.
"Alexander Knight, CEO of Knight Enterprises, held a shocking press conference today," the news anchor said. "In an unprecedented move, he revealed decades of criminal activity within his family's company, implicating himself in potential charges of conspiracy and racketeering."
I watched from the safehouse as his face filled every screen.
He looked calm. Controlled. Every inch the powerful CEO.
But I saw the pain beneath.
"My father built Knight Enterprises on illegal activities," he said clearly. "Money laundering. Fraud. Worse. I inherited that company without knowing its true nature. But ignorance isn't innocence. The moment I discovered the truth, I had a choice—protect myself or protect others. I choose others. I'm cooperating fully with federal investigators and will accept whatever consequences come."
The reporters exploded with questions.
"Mr. Knight, are you admitting to crimes?"
"Will you go to prison?"
"What about your wife?"
At the mention of me, his eyes found the camera. Like he could see me through it.
"My wife is innocent of everything. She's been a victim of my family's crimes just like everyone else. And she's the reason I'm standing here today. She reminded me that doing the right thing matters more than protecting yourself."
My vision blurred with tears.
"You idiot," I whispered to the screen. "You beautiful, stupid idiot."
My phone rang. Unknown number.
I almost didn't answer.
But something made me.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Seraphina." A woman's voice. Familiar somehow. "You don't know me, but I knew your mother."
My heart stopped. "Who is this?"
"Someone who's been waiting twenty years for this moment." A pause. "Your mother gave me something before she died. Insurance, she called it. Evidence even more damaging than what Alexander just released."
"What kind of evidence?"
"The kind that proves your mother's death wasn't just murder. It was ordered by someone very powerful. Someone still alive. Someone you know."
My hands shook. "Who?"
"Not over the phone. Meet me. Tonight. Come alone."
"I'm not going anywhere alone—"
"Then your mother's real killer walks free." Her voice turned cold. "Your choice, Seraphina. Truth or safety. You can't have both."
She hung up.
I stared at the phone.
This was insane. Obviously a trap.
But what if it wasn't?
What if there was more to the story?
What if my mother's killer was still out there?
I looked at the TV. Alexander was still answering questions, his entire life unraveling in real-time.
For me. For us. For doing the right thing.
Could I do any less?
I grabbed my coat.
"Where are you going?" Mrs. Chen asked.
"To finish what my mother started." I headed for the door.
"Seraphina, wait—you can't go alone—"
"I have to."
"At least tell Alexander—"
"He has enough to deal with." I paused at the door. "Mrs. Chen, if something happens to me, tell him... tell him I love him. That I forgive him. That he made me believe in people again."
"Nothing's going to happen—"
"Just in case."
I left before she could stop me.
The address the woman gave me was a closed museum. Dark. Empty.
Every instinct screamed trap.
I went in anyway.
The main hall was massive. Marble floors. Paintings on every wall. Shadows everywhere.
"Hello?" My voice echoed.
"You came." A woman emerged from the shadows. Fifties. Elegant. Vaguely familiar.
"Who are you?"
"Catherine Moreau. I was your mother's best friend. I was there the night she found the documents. And I was there the night she died."
My breath caught. "You saw it?"
"I saw her leave the charity event. Saw the car that followed her. A black sedan. No plates." Catherine moved closer. "Your mother called me from the road. She was terrified. Said someone was following her. Then the line went dead. Ten minutes later, I got word she'd crashed."
"Did you tell the police?"
"I tried. They weren't interested. The case was already closed. Accident. Move on. But I knew better." She pulled out a folder. "Your mother was smart. Before she confronted Robert Knight, she made copies of everything. And she gave them to me for safekeeping."
She handed me the folder.
I opened it with shaking hands.
More documents. More evidence.
And photos.
Of my mother. Of Robert Knight. Of James.
And one more person.
A person I recognized.
A person who was supposed to be on our side.
"No," I whispered.
"Yes." Catherine's voice was sad. "I'm sorry, Seraphina. But your mother's death was ordered by—"
The lights went out.
Glass shattered.
"Get down!" Catherine shoved me behind a pillar.
Gunfire erupted. Bullets screamed through the air, striking marble and paintings.
"They followed you!" Catherine gasped.
"Who?"
"The people who don't want this exposed! Run!"
We ran.
Through the dark museum. Bullets chasing us. Footsteps pounding behind.
I clutched the folder to my chest. My mother's last gift.
Her final truth.
We burst through an emergency exit. Alarms blaring.
A car screeched up. Catherine pushed me toward it.
"Go! Get that evidence to Alexander! Don't let them—"
A gunshot.
Catherine crumpled.
"No!" I tried to go to her.
But the driver grabbed me. Pulled me into the car.
We peeled out as more gunfire erupted.
I looked back. Catherine lay on the ground. Not moving.
"No, no, no—we have to go back—"
"She's gone," the driver said.
I looked at him for the first time. Marcus. Alexander's security chief.
"How did you—"
"Mrs. Chen called me. Said you'd do something reckless. Boss's orders—keep you safe no matter what."
Tears streamed down my face. "Catherine—she was trying to help—"
"I know. And now whoever killed your mother just killed her too." He glanced at the folder. "What's in there?"
I opened it with shaking hands.
Found the photo I'd seen.
The person who'd ordered my mother's death.
And felt my world shatter all over again.
Because staring back at me was a face I knew.
A face I trusted.
Elena. Alexander's lawyer.
The safehouse was chaos when we arrived.
Alexander paced like a caged animal. The moment he saw me, he crossed the room in three strides.
"Where the hell were you?" He gripped my shoulders. "You can't just disappear—"
"Elena killed my mother."
He froze. "What?"
"Your lawyer. Elena. She's in the photos. Working with your father. She was there. She helped orchestrate everything." I shoved the folder at him. "She's been lying this whole time. She's probably the one who—"
"Who what?" A voice from the doorway.
We turned.
Elena stood there. Gun in hand. Smiling.
"Figured it out finally? Took you long enough."
Alexander moved in front of me. "Elena, put the gun down."
"I don't think so." She kept it trained on us. "You've become a problem, Alexander. You and your bleeding-heart wife. Exposing everything. Cooperating with the FBI. You're destroying decades of careful work."
"You were working with my father."
"I was his lawyer. His fixer. His partner. I helped build the empire you inherited. And I'll be damned if I let you tear it down out of some misguided sense of morality."
"You killed Seraphina's mother."
"I helped." Elena shrugged. "She was going to ruin everything. I couldn't allow that. Just like I can't allow you two to survive. Too many loose ends."
She cocked the gun.
Alexander pushed me behind him completely. "If you're going to shoot someone, shoot me. Let her go."
"How noble. How stupid." Elena's smile was cold. "But no. She has to die too. She's seen too much. Knows too much. Just like her mother."
"Elena, please—" I started.
"Save it. Your mother tried begging too. Didn't work then, won't work now."
She aimed.
I closed my eyes.
A gunshot rang out.
I waited for pain.
It didn't come.
I opened my eyes.
Elena lay on the ground. Blood pooling.
Behind her, Mrs. Chen stood with a gun. Shaking. Crying.
"Not again," she whispered. "I won't let it happen again. Not another innocent girl. Not on my watch."
The gun clattered from her hands.
Alexander caught her as she collapsed.
"I killed her," Mrs. Chen sobbed. "Oh God, I killed her—"
"In self-defense," I said firmly. "She was going to murder us. You saved our lives."
"But I—"
"You did what my mother would have wanted." I knelt beside her. "You protected her daughter. Finally. You did the right thing."
Mrs. Chen clung to me, weeping.
Alexander was already on his phone. "We need police. Federal agents. Medical. Now."
Within minutes, the safehouse was flooded with authorities.
Elena was pronounced dead at the scene.
Mrs. Chen was questioned. Released. Self-defense.
And Alexander and I sat together on the couch, covered in someone else's blood, holding each other as dawn broke.
"It's over," he whispered.
"Is it?"
"James is in custody. Elena's dead. The evidence is with the FBI. It's over."
"What about you? What about the charges?"
He was quiet for a long moment. "I'll probably go to prison. For a while, at least. Conspiracy charges. Willful ignorance. Take your pick."
My heart clenched. "No."
"Seraphina—"
"No. I won't let you go to prison for your father's crimes."
"The law doesn't care about intent. I profited from his crimes. That makes me guilty."
"Then I'll wait for you." I gripped his hands. "However long it takes. I'll be here when you get out."
"That's not fair to you—"
"I don't care about fair." I kissed him. Hard. "I care about you. About us. And I'm not losing you. Not now. Not after everything."
He pulled me close. "You're insane."
"Probably."
"And I love you."
"I love you too."
We sat there as police worked around us. As evidence was catalogued. As our lives were dissected and documented.
But we had each other.
And my mother's killer was dead.
And James was in custody.
And maybe—just maybe—we'd survive this.
Three days later, Alexander was formally charged.
One count conspiracy to commit fraud. Two counts money laundering.
His lawyer—a different one, since Elena was dead—said he'd likely get two to five years with good behavior.
Five years.
Five years without him.
We stood outside the courthouse. Media everywhere. Cameras flashing.
"I'm going to fight this," I said fiercely. "I'll appeal. I'll get the best lawyers. I'll—"
"Seraphina." He cupped my face. "Stop. I need to do this. I need to pay for what my family did. It's the only way I can live with myself."
"But—"
"No buts." He kissed my forehead. "You've made me a better man. Now let me prove I can be one. Even if it costs me everything."
Tears streamed down my face. "Five years is too long."
"Then we'll make every visit count. Every call. Every letter." He smiled. "And when I get out, we'll have the wedding we never had. A real one. With everyone we love."
"Promise?"
"I promise." He kissed me. Deep. Desperate. Like a man memorizing the taste of hope.
Then the marshals came.
Handcuffs clicked around his wrists.
He looked back at me one last time.
"I love you, Mrs. Knight."
"I love you too."
They led him away.
And I stood there, watching him disappear.
Five years.
I could survive five years.
I'd survived everything else.
My phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number:
He's going to prison. You're alone again. Just like you always end up. Alone.
My blood ran cold.
Another text:
But don't worry. You won't be alone for long. I'll be coming for you soon. After all, you still have something I want.
A photo attached.
My mother's necklace. The one I'd buried with her.
Dug up. Stolen.
The message beneath:
Your mother had secrets even you don't know. And if you want to learn them, you'll come find me. Alone. Or Alexander dies in prison before his first month is up.
- V
V.
Vivienne.
She was alive.
And she knew something about my mother.
I looked at the courthouse where Alexander had just vanished.
Then at my phone.
Five years, they said.
But he wouldn't survive one if Vivienne had her way.
I had a choice.
Trust the system to protect him.
Or protect him myself.
I made my decision.
I texted back:
Where?
The response was immediate:
I'll send coordinates. Come alone. Come now. Or he dies.
I looked one last time at the courthouse.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "But I'm not losing you. Not to prison. Not to her. Not to anything."
Then I got in my car.
And drove toward whatever hell Vivienne had planned.
Because that's what love meant.
Sacrifice.
Stupidity.
Walking into traps to save the man who'd saved you first.
And I'd learned from the best.
My mother had died fighting for what was right.
I'd do the same.
Even if it killed me too.