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\### Miranda’s POV
The night was unusually quiet as I drove home, the streetlights barely illuminating the long stretch of road ahead. My body ached from the exhausting day at work—dealing with the embezzlement of company funds, fielding calls from lawyers, and dodging relentless reporters. The air in my car was cool, the gentle breeze brushing against my skin, offering a small reprieve from the day’s chaos. It was almost 8:00 p.m. when I left the office, and all I wanted was to collapse into bed. But as fate would have it, peace was the last thing the night had in store for me.
I was crossing the bridge that divided the city from the suburbs when something unusual caught my eye. A figure was squatting near the riverbank, his silhouette illuminated by the dim moonlight. My hands tightened on the steering wheel as I squinted to make out the details. From his posture, I could tell it was Desmond. But why was he out here, alone, at this hour? What could he possibly be doing?
I pressed my foot lightly on the gas, ready to drive past and ignore whatever was happening. But then, an instinct—no, a nagging feeling—made me stop. Slowly, I pulled my car off the road, parking discreetly behind a cluster of bushes. I rolled down my window, the night air carrying with it the faint rustle of leaves and the soft gurgle of the river.
What I saw next made my blood run cold.
Desmond opened the trunk of his car, and to my horror, he pulled out a limp figure. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the person—Brenda. She wasn’t moving, her body slack like a rag doll. Desmond didn’t hesitate as he carried her to the river’s edge. My breath hitched as I watched him toss her into the water like she was nothing more than garbage.
For a moment, I froze. My mind raced with questions. Was she alive? What had happened? Why would Desmond do this? As his car sped off into the darkness, I jumped into action. Grabbing a flashlight from my glove compartment, I ran toward the riverbank.
The water was icy as I waded in, the current tugging at my legs. Brenda’s body floated just a few feet away, and with all my strength, I pulled her out. She was pale, her lips a sickly blue, and her chest unmoving. Panic clawed at my throat as I checked for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there.
I dragged her back to my car, my heart pounding as I laid her across the back seat. Without wasting another second, I sped home, calling my family doctor on the way.
When we arrived, the doctor worked quickly, administering oxygen and checking her vitals. I paced the living room, biting my nails as the minutes ticked by. Finally, he turned to me and said, “She’s stable. You found her just in time. Any later, and she wouldn’t have made it.”
Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived. Brenda stirred on the couch, her eyes fluttering open. She looked around, confused and disoriented.
“Where am I?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“You’re safe,” I reassured her, sitting down beside her. “You’re at my house. I found you by the river.”
Her eyes widened, and tears welled up as the memories came flooding back. “Desmond…” she choked out. “He tried to kill me. He threw me into the river. I—I trusted him, and he betrayed me.”
Her sobs broke my heart, but I knew I had to be strong. “Brenda, listen to me. You’re alive, and that’s what matters. But you need to think about your next steps. Desmond won’t stop. If he finds out you survived…”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “What can I do? I have nothing. No money, no power. I’m helpless against him.”
I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. “You’re not helpless. You have me. Together, we can bring him down. But you have to be willing to fight. Revenge is best served cold, Brenda. And we’re going to make him pay.”
Her eyes met mine, a flicker of determination breaking through her despair. “What’s your plan?” she asked, her voice steadying.
A slow smile spread across my face as I leaned in to whisper my idea. Her eyes widened with shock, and for a moment, she looked uncertain.
“Do you really think this will work?” she asked.
I nodded firmly. “It will. Trust me.”
\---
\### Desmond’s POV
Killing Brenda was supposed to be my salvation. She had been the thorn in my side for too long, ruining every opportunity I had worked so hard for. Because of her, I lost the Martin Group collaboration, a project that could have brought me millions. My clients, my business partners—they all left me because of her meddling.
I had no choice. She had to go.
I replayed the moment in my mind as I sat in my office the next day, sifting through the remnants of my once-thriving business. The way her lifeless body sank into the river, the water swallowing her whole—it was a clean break. Or so I thought.
The sound of my office door creaking open jolted me from my thoughts. I looked up, expecting an assistant or a client. Instead, two police officers stood in the doorway, their expressions grim.
“Mr. Desmond,” one of them said, stepping forward. “You are under arrest for homicide, embezzlement, and tax evasion. Please come with us to the station. Your statement will be required.”
My heart stopped. Homicide? How could they know? I had been so careful.
“There must be a mistake,” I stammered, rising from my chair. “I think you’ve got the wrong person. I can explain—”
“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” the officer interrupted.
Panic surged through me as they placed handcuffs around my wrists. My mind raced. Who had betrayed me? Could it be… Brenda? No, it wasn’t possible. She was dead.
Wasn’t she?
As they led me out of the building, reporters swarmed the scene, cameras flashing. My carefully constructed world was crumbling, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
For the first time in my life, I felt powerless. And it terrified me.
\### To Be Continued…