Chapter 8
Rachel stayed in the mansion that night, lying on a luxurious bed that felt too cold, too empty. The room was quiet, guarded, and spotless—much like Eric himself. There were no personal touches, no warmth. Just silence and shadows.
She barely slept.
In the morning, she woke to the sound of someone knocking softly on the door. A maid entered with breakfast on a silver tray, placed it on the table, and left without a word.
Rachel didn’t touch it.
Instead, she stood by the window, watching the sunrise paint the sky in gold and crimson. Her thoughts were spinning. Had Eric believed her? Would he act? Or would he bury the truth again to protect the name of Lang?
A soft knock came again—different this time. The door opened, and Eric walked in.
He looked like he hadn’t slept either. His collar was unbuttoned, his jaw rough with stubble. There was a heaviness in his eyes Rachel had never seen before.
“I looked deeper into it,” he said without greeting. “The emails, the payments… the evidence is real. Helen wasn’t lying.”
Rachel didn’t say anything. She let him talk.
“Michelle worked with Gregory Chen for over three years. During that time, at least six women were silenced or disappeared. The most recent… Helen.”
He took a deep breath, hands clenched at his sides.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
Rachel stepped closer. “You were never looking. You were too busy hating me to ask why.”
That hit him like a slap. He flinched slightly but didn’t deny it.
“I believed Michelle because she was safe,” he admitted. “Predictable. You… you were chaos. Fire. You challenged everything I thought I knew.”
“And so you punished me for it,” Rachel whispered.
A long silence stretched between them.
Then Eric said, “I want to help. But we have to be careful. Michelle has connections—deep ones. If we strike too soon, she’ll vanish.”
Rachel nodded. “I have more files. Hidden. Copies. I sent one to a lawyer I trust.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “You came prepared.”
“I’ve had years to prepare.”
Something in his eyes shifted. Respect. Maybe guilt. Maybe both.
They spent the next hours building a plan. Rachel shared everything she had. Eric made calls, discreetly tapping into private investigators, old friends in law enforcement, and a few loyal employees still left at Lang Corporation.
By evening, they had a strategy: expose Michelle publicly at a charity gala she was hosting the following week. The guest list included reporters, influencers, and politicians. If they revealed the evidence there, she wouldn’t be able to escape.
But there was one catch—Michelle couldn’t know Rachel was alive until then.
“You’ll have to disappear again,” Eric said. “Lay low until the night of the gala. After that, the whole city will know the truth.”
Rachel nodded, even though the thought of hiding again made her stomach twist. She had just begun to breathe again, and now she had to fade into the shadows once more.
Before she left the room, Eric called her name.
She turned, surprised by the softness in his voice.
“I was wrong about you, Rachel,” he said quietly. “And I think… I’m still paying for that mistake.”
Rachel looked at him for a long second.
Then she replied, “Then don’t waste the chance to make it right.”
She walked away without looking back.
One week.
One chance to end it all.