Chapter 195
Alex's POV
The safe clicked open with a soft mechanical whisper that seemed to echo through the study. I'd been preparing for this moment for a long time—gathering evidence, connecting dots. Grace stood beside me, her hand warm against my arm as I pulled out the folders.
"I need you to see this," I said quietly, spreading the documents across my desk. "Though your past with Richard and them is over, the real threat to your safety is Elizabeth. This is everything Elizabeth has done. Everything she's hidden."
The first file contained financial records—wire transfers to offshore accounts, payments to organizations that didn't officially exist. Grace's breath caught as she read the amounts. Hundreds of millions of dollars, flowing from Wilson Holdings to what could only be described as professional killers.
"Jesus Christ," she whispered, her fingers trembling as she turned the pages. "Alex, this is..."
"Murder for hire," I finished grimly. "Andrew's parents didn't die in an accident either, as I told you before. When they threatened to expose Elizabeth's embezzlement, she had them killed. And there was a girl named Molly," I opened the second folder, revealing suppressed witness statements. "Molly was threatened by Elizabeth, with her family's lives, and with destroying Andrew."
Grace's face went pale. I watched her process the magnitude of Elizabeth's crimes—not just financial fraud or corporate manipulation, but actual murder. Multiple murders.
She's stronger than she knows, I thought, seeing the way she straightened her spine even as the shock hit her. She can handle this truth.
"How long have you known?" she asked, her voice steady despite everything.
"I've suspected for a month. But I needed proof." I pulled out the final folder—the one that had taken the longest to compile. "This is everything. Bank records, communication logs, witness testimonies. Enough to put her away for life."
Grace looked up at me, and I saw something shift in her expression. The shock was fading, replaced by something harder.
---
Grace's POV
The weight of the evidence in my hands felt heavier than it should have. These weren't just documents—they were death certificates. Proof that the woman I'd called stepmother had orchestrated the deaths of innocent people to protect her position in our family.
Alex moved to stand behind my chair, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. "How to proceed is up to you. Take these to your grandfather. Let the family make the final decision about Elizabeth's fate. Or you can judge her yourself."
I thought for a long time, and finally decided to tell grandfather about this.
"Do you trust him to do the right thing?" he asked.
"Grandfather might be intimidating, but he's fundamentally honorable. That's the assessment Sophia and the others gave. He won't let Elizabeth's crimes go unpunished."
"I trust you," Alex said simply.
I nodded, feeling the responsibility settle on my shoulders like a mantle. This was bigger than corporate rivalry or family politics. This was about ensuring that Elizabeth could never hurt anyone again.
She killed Andrew's parents. She killed Molly. How many others?
The thought made my stomach turn, but it also strengthened my resolve. "I won't let her get away with this," I said firmly. "Not anymore."
---
Three days later
The Wilson family limousine felt different on the ride back from Zenoria. Heavier somehow, weighted down by everything I carried and the decisions that had been made. I stared out the tinted windows at the familiar skyline of Starport, remembering the look on Grandfather Edwin's face when I'd shown him the evidence.
Rage. Pure, cold rage.
He'd aged several years in the span of an hour, reading through Alex's meticulously compiled proof of Elizabeth's crimes. I'd watched him grip the arms of his chair until his knuckles went white, seen the way his jaw worked as he processed the magnitude of her betrayal.
"Twenty years," he'd said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Twenty years I've trusted her. Welcomed her into this family. And she repays that trust by murdering my son's friends. By turning my grandson into an unwitting accomplice."
The decision had been swift and final. Elizabeth would be stripped of all authority within Wilson Holdings. Grandfather personally sent her to court. Everything she'd built, everything she'd schemed for was completely erased.
Justice served, but at what cost?
My phone buzzed with a text from Alex: How did it go?
It's done, I replied. Grandfather made his choice. Elizabeth is finished.
The response came immediately: Are you okay?
I smiled despite everything. Even from thousands of miles away, he could sense my emotional state. Better now. Coming home to you.
---
Charles's POV
I was in my office when Grace called the emergency meeting. Her voice on the phone had been calm, professional, but I could hear the undercurrent of exhaustion. She'd been through hell these past few days, and it showed.
When she walked into the Wilson Holdings boardroom, I barely recognized her. Not because she looked different—if anything, she looked more composed than ever. But there was something in her bearing, something that spoke of hard-won authority and terrible knowledge.
"Thank you all for coming on short notice," she began, taking her seat at the head of the table. "I have news from Zenoria. Grandfather Edwin has made his decision regarding Elizabeth's... situation."
The pause was deliberate, loaded with implication. Around the table, the other board members leaned forward.
"Effective immediately, Elizabeth Wilson is stripped of all positions within Wilson Holdings. Her access to company resources, accounts, and facilities has been revoked. She will not be returning to Starport."
Jesus Christ, I thought, feeling a mixture of shock and vindication. Grace ended the family feud.
"Furthermore," Grace continued, "operational control of Wilson Holdings is being transferred to myself and Charles, as per Grandfather Edwin's explicit instructions."
The room erupted in murmurs, but Grace raised her hand for silence. "I know this comes as a shock to many of you. But I want to be clear—this decision was made based on irrefutable evidence of serious misconduct. The details will remain confidential, but I assure you that justice has been served."
I found myself studying her face, looking for signs of the young woman who'd been so uncertain just months ago. She was gone, replaced by someone who could command a room full of powerful executives without breaking a sweat.
Robert would be proud, I realized. She's become everything he hoped she could be.
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Andrew's POV
I was reviewing quarterly reports when my assistant knocked on my office door. "Mr. Wilson? Ms. Wilson would like to see you in her office. She says it's urgent."
Something in the woman's tone made my stomach clench. Urgent meetings with Grace were never good news for me. But I couldn't refuse—not when she held all the cards.
Her office felt different when I walked in. Colder somehow, more formal. Grace sat behind her desk, her expression unreadable, with several manila folders arranged in front of her.
"Sit down, Andrew," she said quietly. "We need to talk."
I took the chair across from her, trying to project confidence I didn't feel. "What's this about?"
Instead of answering, she slid one of the folders across the desk. "Open it."
My hands shook as I lifted the cover. Inside were photographs—crime scene photos of a car wreck. My parents' car wreck. But these weren't the sanitized images from the police report I'd seen years ago. These were raw, detailed, showing things that had been hidden from me.
"Keep reading," Grace said, her voice gentle but implacable.
The next pages contained financial records. Wire transfers. Communications between Elizabeth and... Oh God.
"No," I whispered, my voice cracking. "No, this can't be real."
But it was real. Every damning piece of evidence, every carefully documented transaction. Elizabeth hadn't just covered up my parents' deaths—she'd orchestrated them. And Molly... sweet, trusting Molly, Elizabeth had threatened her, and she had sacrificed her life to protect us...
The folder slipped from my nerveless fingers, papers scattering across the floor. I found myself on my knees, gathering them up with shaking hands, as if I could somehow undo what I'd just learned.
"I'm sorry," Grace said, and I could hear genuine compassion in her voice. "I'm so sorry you had to learn the truth this way."
My whole life has been a lie, I thought desperately. Everything I believed, everything I fought for... it was all built on murder.
The sobs came then, harsh and ugly, tearing out of my chest like physical wounds. I knelt there on Grace's office floor, surrounded by evidence of Elizabeth's crimes, and finally understood the true cost of the power I'd been so desperate to inherit.
Grace didn't try to comfort me. She simply left the space.
Leaving me there, broken.