Hidden bank transfers.
A missing mechanic.
Deleted messages recovered.
Elena’s crash wasn’t an accident.
It was murder.
But Victoria made her move before Damian could go public.
She entered the mansion that evening, poised and elegant as ever.
She froze when she saw the toddlers.
Shock twisted into disgust.
“What is this?”
“My children,” Damian said firmly.
“Impossible.”
“They survived.”
Victoria looked at them with cold contempt.
“Laboratory mistakes. They contaminate the Cross name.”
“Get out of my house.”
Instead, she pulled a lighter from her purse and set the living room curtains on fire.
Chaos erupted.
In the confusion, she grabbed the children and ran into the rain toward her SUV.
“Stop!”
Damian caught up just as she began splashing gasoline onto the vehicle.
“They should have died before they were born,” she hissed. “Only natural heirs deserve the Cross name.”
She flicked the lighter.
A single gunshot rang out.
The lighter fell into the mud. A private security marksman — activated by Damian’s emergency system — had fired, disarming her.
Damian tore open the SUV door and pulled his children into his arms while Sofia checked them with shaking hands.
Police sirens wailed in the distance.