Chapter 13 - Secrets Buried in Red Velvet
"We need to disappear," Vanessa said hysterically, pacing back and forth across the hardwood floors of Emily’s Pacific Heights mansion. The heavy velvet curtains were drawn tight, blocking out the glittering lights of San Francisco. "If Julian is alive, he’s coming for us. He knows I betrayed him, Em! He’ll skin me alive before he throws me off that cliff!"
"Calm down, Vanessa!" Sarah snapped, her laptop resting on the kitchen island, screens flashing with cross-referenced flight manifests and shell company registrations. "Panic is exactly what he wants. He’s playing psychological warfare. That text, the rose on the car—it’s designed to make Emily unravel so she makes a corporate mistake."
Emily stood beside the unlit marble fireplace, cradling a glass of neat Scotch. She hadn't taken a sip. Her eyes were fixed on an antique mahogany jewelry box resting on the mantelpiece—a gift Julian had given her three weeks before their disastrous rehearsal dinner.
*“Inside this box is the heart of my devotion,”* Julian had whispered that night, kissing her temple with lips that had felt warm and genuine. *“Keep it close, darling. It holds the key to everything we’ll build together.”*
At the time, she had thought it was a poetic metaphor for the vintage sapphire earrings tucked inside. But now, with Julian’s phantom breathing down her neck, every word he had ever spoken took on a venomous double meaning.
Emily walked over to the mantel. She dumped the sapphire earrings onto the rug, picking up the heavy box. She inspected the base. It was made of solid cherry wood, lined with crimson velvet.
"Sarah," Emily said, her tone deceptively quiet. "Bring me a paring knife."
Vanessa stopped pacing. "What are you doing?"
Sarah handed Emily a small utility knife from the kitchen block. Emily wedged the tip beneath the seam of the inner velvet lining and pulled.
With a tearing sound of aged adhesive, the velvet tore away.
Beneath the velvet base sat a shallow compartment carved into the wood. Nestled inside was an ultra-thin black titanium flash drive and a folded slip of heavy parchment paper.
Sarah and Vanessa rushed over, crowding Emily’s shoulders.
Emily unfolded the parchment. Written in Julian’s unmistakable, razor-sharp calligraphy was a list of five names, complete with dates, Swiss bank account routing numbers, and red checkmarks next to the first four.
*1. Eleanor Sterling — London (Deceased: Boating Accident, 2018)*
*2. Marie Claire Dupont — Paris (Deceased: Fall from Balcony, 2020)*
*3. Sophia Rostova — Zurich (Deceased: Prescription Overdose, 2022)*
*4. Victoria Chen — Singapore (Deceased: Car Crash, 2023)*
*5. Emily Hayes — San Francisco (Pending)*
Beside Emily’s name, there was no checkmark. In its place was a freshly scribbled phrase in dark red ink:
*“Patience is the architect of perfection.”*
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Emily’s fingers tightened on the parchment, crumpling the edges. "I wasn't his first," she whispered, her voice cracking with pure horror. "I was his fifth."
***
