Chapter 10 - Echoes in the Penthouse
The sleek black sedan glided silently into the private underground parking garage of Trina’s residential tower. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead as the car came to a smooth halt near the private elevator lobby. Attorney Santos stepped out first, holding his briefcase tightly, while Trina remained seated for a brief moment, taking a slow, deep breath to steady her nerves.
"The local precinct called while we were on the road, Ms. Rosales," Attorney Santos said, holding the door open for her. "The intruder, Clara, was cooperative once the officers entered. She surrendered the jewelry box without resistance, though she claimed Mr. Del Rosario promised her a partnership in a shell company."
Trina stepped out of the car, her cream satin blouse smoothing out effortlessly as she walked toward the elevator. "A shell company that probably didn't exist on paper," Trina remarked coldly. "Just like his promises to Lisa."
They stepped into the private elevator, and Attorney Santos swiped his security card. The heavy metal doors closed, and the car ascended swiftly toward the penthouse level. With every floor they passed, Trina felt a strange mixture of heaviness and relief. This building, which had once felt like a sanctuary shared with a stranger, was now entirely hers to reclaim.
The elevator bell chimed softly, and the doors slid open directly into the private foyer of the penthouse.
The crimson emergency lighting had been deactivated, replaced by the soft, warm glow of standard wall sconces. However, the signs of the evening's chaos were immediately visible. Shattered glass from the balcony door glittered like diamonds across the polished hardwood floor where Clara had thrown the crystal decanter. A few police officers were finishing their sweep near the living room, packing up evidence bags containing the recovered heirloom jewelry box.
The senior officer on the scene stepped forward, touching the brim of his cap. "Good evening, Ms. Rosales. We’ve secured the premises and retrieved all identified stolen property. The intruder has been transported downtown for booking."
"Thank you, Officer," Trina said, her voice composed. "Please ensure the evidence log is sent directly to Attorney Santos."
"Will do, ma'am," the officer replied, signaling for his team to pack up and evacuate the unit.
Within minutes, the apartment was quiet once again. Only Trina and her lawyer remained in the vast, silent living room. Attorney Santos surveyed the damage, shaking his head slightly before turning to her. "My team will have the glass repaired and the locks recoded by tomorrow morning. You are entirely safe here now."
"Thank you, Santos," Trina said softly. "You can head home. I'll review the preliminary audit reports in my study."
The lawyer nodded respectfully and took his leave, the private elevator doors closing behind him with a gentle hiss.
Trina walked slowly across the living room, her heels crunching softly on a stray shard of glass. She headed down the long hallway toward her master bedroom, ready to close the final door on this chaotic chapter of her life. But as she reached the threshold of her bedroom, she noticed a small, flickering light coming from her bedside table.
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It was Ramon’s old tablet—a device he thought he had wiped clean—sitting upright on the nightstand, displaying a newly received video file titled simply: The Truth About the Tokyo Account.
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