Chapter 7
Rachel didn’t hesitate as she crossed the street toward Lang Corporation. The wind whipped her coat around her legs, but she moved with quiet purpose. This building had once been a symbol of everything she’d wanted—success, love, belonging. Now, it was enemy territory.
She stepped into the lobby, keeping her head down. Her hair, dyed a dark brown, was tied back neatly. Thick glasses covered most of her face. The disguise worked—no one gave her a second glance.
She approached the front desk and calmly handed over a folder. “This is for Mr. Eric Nelson,” she said. “It’s urgent. Confidential.”
The receptionist took it, slightly puzzled. “And who should I say it’s from?”
Rachel smiled faintly. “Just tell him… it’s from someone he thought was gone.”
She turned before the woman could ask more questions and slipped back into the crowd. The folder contained only one thing—a copy of Helen’s final video. No explanation. No threats. Just the truth, straight from Helen’s mouth.
Hours passed. Rachel waited in a hotel room nearby, heart pounding with every second. She didn’t know how Eric would react. He might throw the folder in the trash. Or worse—he might trace it back to her and come after her again. After all, he was the one who’d locked her away, destroyed her name, and cast her into hell.
But she also remembered the way he had looked at Helen… like she was the only person in the world who mattered.
If anything could shake his blind hatred, it would be Helen’s voice.
That evening, the reaction came.
A car pulled up outside the hotel. Two men stepped out, dressed in black. They didn’t knock. They forced the door open.
Rachel’s body went stiff, her instincts screaming to run—but it was too late. One of the men grabbed her by the arm, but didn’t hurt her.
“Mr. Nelson wants to see you,” he said flatly.
Rachel didn’t resist. She nodded once and let them lead her down to the car.
The ride was silent. Tense.
The car eventually stopped in front of a private mansion on the outskirts of the city. It wasn’t Nelson Manor—it was somewhere quieter. Somewhere he wouldn’t be seen.
She was led through heavy doors into a spacious room dimly lit by a crystal chandelier. And there he was.
Eric stood near the fireplace, his back turned to her, one hand clutching a wine glass.
“I should’ve known,” he said without turning. “Even death couldn’t stop you.”
Rachel stood still, heart pounding. “So you’ve seen it.”
“I have,” he said, finally facing her.
His face was hard, but his eyes… there was something there. Confusion. Shock. Doubt.
“You think this proves anything?” he asked, voice low. “Helen could have been scared. She might have imagined things.”
“No,” Rachel said firmly. “You know Helen. She never imagined things. She was direct, honest, brave. If she said Michelle was dangerous, she was.”
Eric’s jaw tightened. He wanted to argue—but the video had shaken him. Rachel could see it. The man who had sentenced her to prison now stood as if his world had cracked open.
“I never laid a hand on Helen,” Rachel said. “I never hired anyone. I never hated her. She was my friend. She called me that night for help… and I wasn’t fast enough.”
Eric looked at her for a long moment. Then he said something she didn’t expect.
“I buried her thinking you killed her. I hated you for years. And now… I don’t know what to feel.”
Rachel looked him in the eye. “Then start by helping me finish what Helen started. Bring Michelle down.”
Eric didn’t answer right away. He set his wine glass down, walked past her, and paused at the door.
“I’ll think about it,” he said. “For now, you’ll stay here. It’s safe. You’ll be watched.”
Rachel almost smiled. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t trust. But it was the first step.
The devil was listening.
And maybe, just maybe… he was starting to remember the light.