Chapter 55 THE FINAL SOLUTION
POV: Selena
I am standing in Adrian’s kitchen when my phone lights up again.
I want it to be nothing. A wrong number. A pocket dial. Anything that does not carry my mother’s name across the screen.
I answer before the second ring finishes.
“Mama?”
“I don’t have much time,” Rosa says. Her voice is steady, but there is a tight edge to it that makes my skin prickle. “I’m in his study.”
My grip on the counter tightens. Adrian looks up from across the room instantly. He reads my face before I say anything.
“You shouldn’t be there,” I whisper.
“I know,” she replies. “But I needed to see it myself.”
“See what?”
“Everything,” she says. “His plan. His endgame.”
Adrian is beside me now, his hand hovering near my arm like he wants to hold me but knows better. I put the call on speaker.
“Rosa,” he says, low and controlled, “you need to leave now.”
“I will,” she answers. “I just need to explain what I’m looking at.”
I close my eyes. “Please just talk.”
“There are folders everywhere,” she says. “Bank transfers. Shell accounts. Statements prepared in advance. All of it points to Adrian.”
Adrian goes very still.
“He’s building a case for embezzlement,” Rosa continues. “Money siphoned through charities. Grants misreported. Transactions dated months back.”
“That’s impossible,” I say. “Adrian never—”
“I know,” she interrupts. “That’s why it’s clever. He’s using Thomas’s testimony to back it up. Saying Thomas followed orders. Saying the senator’s son pressured him.”
Adrian swears under his breath.
“He’s planned this for a long time,” Rosa says. “These documents weren’t rushed. They’re layered. Clean. Anyone looking at them without context would believe every word.”
I feel dizzy. “Are you taking pictures?”
“Yes,” she says. “Slowly. Carefully. I’m not touching anything.”
Adrian paces now, a predator trapped in a small space. “This is enough. Get out.”
“Almost,” she says. “There’s more.”
“What more?” I ask.
“There’s a timeline,” she says. “What happens after Adrian is charged. How the foundation collapses. How donors pull out. How the family fractures.”
I press my hand to my mouth.
“And you,” she adds.
My heart skips.
“What about me?”
“She has a file,” Rosa says quietly. “You do.”
Adrian stops pacing. “What kind of file?”
“Personal,” she replies. “Photos. Background checks. Notes. Comments about pressure points.”
I shake my head. “That’s insane.”
“No,” Rosa says. “It’s thorough.”
There’s a pause. Then another sound filters through the line. Soft. Rhythmic.
Footsteps.
“Mama?” I say.
“I hear someone,” she whispers. “I need to hide.”
“Rosa, leave,” Adrian says sharply.
“I can’t,” she replies. “They’re close.”
The line goes quiet except for her breathing.
My pulse roars in my ears.
I imagine her moving through that house, careful and silent, the way she always was when she thought I was asleep and she didn’t want to wake me. I hate that this is the skill she needs now.
“I’m behind the curtain,” she whispers. “Don’t speak.”
The sound of a door opening reaches us through the phone. Voices follow. Male. Familiar and unfamiliar all at once.
Thornton.
“I told you,” he says, smug and relaxed, “once we destroy Adrian, the entire family falls.”
Another man laughs softly. “You’re certain Thomas will hold?”
“He has no choice,” Thornton replies. “Prison has a way of clarifying loyalty.”
My nails dig into my palm.
“And the intern?” the other man asks. “The girl?”
Thornton hums, amused. “I have special plans for her.”
Adrian makes a sound in his throat, sharp and dangerous. I grab his arm without thinking, grounding him, grounding myself.
Rosa does not move. She does not breathe loudly. She does not make a single sound.
“What kind of plans?” the man asks.
Thornton’s voice drops. “Ones that ensure she never interferes again.”
My vision blurs. Rage and fear crash together so hard I can barely separate them.
The men move deeper into the room. Papers shuffle. A chair scrapes softly against the floor.
“I’ll be quick,” Thornton says. “I don’t like loose ends.”
The footsteps retreat. The door closes.
Seconds pass. Ten. Twenty.
Then Rosa exhales.
“I’m still here,” she whispers.
I sag against the counter, my legs barely holding me.
“Mama,” I breathe. “Please leave now.”
“I am,” she says. “I got what we needed.”
“Send the photos,” Adrian says. “Immediately.”
“I will,” she replies. “But listen to me first.”
I press the phone closer to my ear. “I’m listening.”
“This isn’t just about Adrian,” she says. “Thornton is preparing to burn everything. The family. The foundation. Anyone close enough to matter.”
“And you?” I ask.
“I’ll be careful,” she says. “I promise.”
I don’t believe promises anymore.
The call ends.
I stare at the blank screen like it might give me answers if I wait long enough.
Adrian turns to me, his expression stripped of all pretense. “We’re ending this.”
“Yes,” I say. “Tonight, if we can.”
He nods once. Decisive. Focused.
My phone buzzes again. Photos begin to arrive, one after another.
Proof.
Plans.
The blueprint for our destruction.
And in the middle of it all, my name.