Chapter 151 Send Rachel to Jail! (3)
Rachel had barely stepped off the last stair when she saw Orla kneeling on the marble floor, her face a mask of blood and tears, one trembling hand pointing straight at her.
"I did not want to hurt Mr. Ryan Martinez or Ms. Amelia Martinez!" Orla's voice cracked, raw with panic. "It was Ms. Rachel Martinez who gave me five hundred thousand… she told me to do all of it!"
What…?
The words hit Rachel like a sudden drop into darkness. Her foot faltered, the edge of the step slipping under her heel, and for a breath she thought she might tumble forward. For hours she had been pacing her room, heart pounding, haunted by the fear that someone might uncover what she had done. And now, before she could even take a seat, Orla was confessing in front of everyone—and dragging her name into the fire.
Her chest tightened, as though an invisible fist had clamped around her heart. Even her shoulders trembled. She forced her expression into something wide-eyed and incredulous, locking her gaze on Orla.
"Orla, what are you talking about?! You are saying everything that happened tonight was your doing… and that I told you to do it?"
Kevin, Chris, Tobias, and Jenny stood frozen in place. They had already been stunned by Orla's battered, bloodied state. Now, hearing her accusation was like being struck across the skull.
She was claiming this was no accident at all. This was deliberate. And the mastermind… was Rachel?
Amelia watched their reactions before speaking. Her voice was calm, but each word carried weight.
"Kevin, after I went back to my room, I kept thinking about tonight. Why did the chandelier explode, cutting the power? Why did Ryan happen to go upstairs just before the blackout? Why was he locked in his room during the outage, unable to get out, until he collapsed? And why was I wearing a red dress that would trigger him into attacking me when he was in that state?"
"Too many coincidences strung together stop being coincidences."
"That dress was delivered to my room by a servant before the party, with a note saying it was from Michael. I called to confirm—it was not from him."
"In other words, someone wanted me to wear it tonight."
"Everything tonight was planned. The goal was to use the blackout and the locked door to push Ryan into an episode… and then have him kill the girl in the red dress."
The air seemed to thin, and Kevin and the others drew sharp breaths.
They had assumed the dress was a fluke. Not a trap.
Amelia continued. "Ryan kicked the door because he was locked inside. And during the blackout, the only person not on the first floor was Orla."
"I went to find her. In her wardrobe, I found this—hidden away. A remote control."
"Let's hear the rest from her."
Her gaze fell on Orla, cold enough to make the woman flinch.
Orla swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "Everything tonight… yes, I did it. But it was Ms. Rachel Martinez who told me to."
"Last night, under the excuse of changing a bulb, I installed the small bomb she had me buy into the center of the chandelier."
"Before the party, she told me to call for a delivery—her red dress—sent under Mr. Michael's name to Ms. Amelia Martinez's room."
"During the party, she deliberately spilled a drink on Mr. Ryan Martinez, forcing him to go upstairs to change."
"The moment he stepped into his room, I used the spare key to lock the door from outside. Then I pressed the detonator—the chandelier shattered, the house went dark."
"I heard him trying the door, trapped inside. Only then did I go downstairs. When Mr. Kevin Martinez called for me to bring the emergency lamp, I went to get it."
"She knew that trapping him alone in the dark would trigger his condition. And when everyone came upstairs, all it would take was him seeing Ms. Amelia Martinez in the red dress… and he would attack her without hesitation."
"That was her plan. I never meant for the chandelier shards to injure Mr. Zander Martinez. I did not want to hurt him…"
Kevin and the others turned toward Rachel.
Rachel's mind was a blank, buzzing void.
This woman was insane. Did she not understand that these words would have her charged with attempted murder? That she herself would be named as an accomplice?
The delivery of the dress left no trace. The bomb order was deleted. There were no cameras on the third floor. The spare key was accessible to any servant. The remote could not be proven to control a bomb. Tonight's plan had been flawless—at least, without direct evidence.
So why confess? Why drag Rachel into it?
Orla knew that speaking up meant prison. She had intended to deny everything, even with Amelia holding the remote.
But before anyone came downstairs, Amelia had leaned close and whispered into her ear:
"I checked your file. You have a son about to start college, right?"
"If you don't tell the truth, I will kill him. If you think I'm bluffing… try me."
The words were soft, almost casual, but the pressure behind them was suffocating.
If any other seventeen-year-old girl had said it, Orla would have laughed it off as madness. But after what had happened in her room—Amelia tearing the door handle away, snapping her wrist, slamming her head into the wall—she believed. This girl could kill.
Between her son and herself, there was only one choice.
Orla finished her confession. Rachel's eyes reddened, her body trembling.
"Orla, what are you saying?! Dresses, bombs, locked doors… I don't know anything about this!"
"You claim I told you to do it—where is your proof?!"
She clutched Jenny's hand, turning to Kevin and her mother. "Don't listen to her lies."
"I did spill the drink on Ryan, but it was an accident. I have no idea why she's framing me."
"She's been in this house for years. She knows about Ryan's illness. She must have been nursing some grudge, planning this in secret, and now she's trying to pin it on me."
Orla's eyes widened. "Miss Martinez, what are you talking about?"
"The transfer record is in my phone. You sent me five hundred thousand and told me exactly what to do."
Rachel's tears spilled faster. "That money was because you said you wanted to send your son abroad for school. You came to me begging for help. So I lent it to you."
"I helped you give your son an education… and now you stab me in the back, trying to hang this on me. Orla, you are beyond cruel."