Chapter 3: The FBI’s Guest List
Elena didn't scream back. She didn't look at Vanessa at all. She stood perfectly still, her hand resting on her daughter’s hair, her gaze locked onto Julian.
"The fire wasn't an accident, Julian," Elena said, her voice carrying an authority that made the guests step back. "I survived because I was pulled out before the tank exploded. And I spent three years watching from the shadows while you and your fiancée spent the money that belonged to my daughter’s trust."
May you like
She reached into her uniform pocket—not for a weapon, but for a tablet. She tapped a button, and the massive projection screen behind the DJ booth flickered to life. It wasn't a slideshow of memories. It was a video deposition from a federal agent, followed by forensic reports on a sabotaged brake line.
"The FBI has been sitting on this evidence for six months," Elena continued, the ballroom now deathly silent. "They didn't want you to know they were watching. They wanted to see exactly who else was involved in the attempted murder."
