Chapter 3
Sarah pulled herself up from the floor, leaning heavily against the kitchen counter for support. Her face was already swelling where Jax had struck her, but her eyes burned with a furious, cornered desperation. "You're going to believe a stray kid off the street over the woman who has lived with you for three years?" she spat out, her voice shrill and trembling. "That video is fake! Anyone can generate deepfake footage nowadays! He’s trying to ruin us, Jax!"
Jax stood up slowly, towering over Sarah. He didn't yell. His anger had cooled into something far more terrifying—a dead, calculating calm. He walked over to the kitchen island, picking up the empty mixing bowl that had held the poisoned cake. He leaned down and sniffed the rim. Even through the rich aroma of chocolate and sugar, there was a faint, distinct chemical tang of bitter almonds—the undeniable signature of cyanide.
"Don't lie to me, Sarah," Jax said softly, his voice dropping an octave. "I know what bitter almonds smell like. My old man used it on his dogs when I was a kid."
Sarah’s face drained of every last drop of color. Her lips parted, but no words came out. The defiance melted away, replaced by the sheer panic of a trapped animal. She backed away toward the sliding glass door that led to the backyard patio, her eyes darting toward the darkness outside. "You were going to leave me!" she shrieked suddenly, her composure shattering completely. "You were leaving the whole estate to that charity trust! You had the lawyer draft the papers yesterday! I saw them in your briefcase!"
Jax stared at her, the final pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. He had indeed changed his will yesterday, intending to secure a quiet retirement and ensure that a portion of his modest savings went toward finding the child he had lost years ago—the child whose mother had vanished from his life without a trace. Sarah must have snooped through his briefcase, discovered his long-buried regret about the past, and decided that eliminating him before the paperwork became official was her only path to financial survival.
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"You greedy, cold-hearted bitch," Jax muttered, taking a step toward her.
Sarah didn't wait to hear another word. She grabbed a heavy ceramic fruit bowl off the counter, hurled it directly at Jax's head, and sprinted out the sliding glass door into the dark, rainy night, shattering the quiet suburban street with her frantic footsteps.
