Chapter 4 - THE ACCIDENT'S GHOST
That evening, a heavy autumn rain began to fall over the estate, slicking the tall glass windows of Matthew’s private library on the ground floor.
A fire crackled in the stone fireplace, casting deep orange shadows across the walls lined with leather-bound books.
Matthew stood at the liquor cabinet, pouring two fingers of dark scotch into a crystal glass. He offered one to Destiny, who sat on the dark leather sofa, but she politely shook her head.
"It wasn't just a car crash, was it?" Destiny asked softly, her eyes observing the way Matthew’s hand trembled slightly as he lifted the glass to his lips.
Matthew took a slow sip, turning to face the fire.
"The official police report says it was an icy bridge on Highway 9," Matthew spoke, his voice hollow, echoing with distant grief. "Julianna was driving Samuel home from his grandmother's house. The SUV hit a patch of black ice, spun out, and smashed through the guardrail into the ravine."
He paused, taking a deep, ragged breath.
"When the rescue team arrived two hours later," Matthew continued, "Julianna was gone. Samuel was trapped in the back seat, pinned under the twisted frame of the door. He was conscious the entire time."
Destiny felt a cold chill run down her spine. "Two hours... alone in the dark?"
"Not alone," Matthew corrected, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Julianna was in the front seat. He was staring at her."
Matthew walked over to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a worn black leather notebook. He laid it flat on the coffee table in front of Destiny.
"This was Julianna’s journal," Matthew said. "Three weeks after the funeral, I found out something the police didn't put in the report. The SUV didn't slide on ice because of speed."
Destiny leaned forward, reading the neat, delicate handwriting on the yellowed pages.
“Matthew’s uncle, Richard, threatened to audit the foundation books today. He was furious when Julianna refused to sign the offshore asset transfer...”
Destiny looked up, her brown eyes wide with realization. "His own uncle?"
"Richard Blake," Matthew spat out the name with venom. "He was my father's junior partner. When my father died, Richard thought he would take over Blake International. Instead, the board named me CEO. Richard has been trying to bleed the company dry through shell accounts for ten years. Julianna discovered the fraud two days before she died."
"You think the accident was staged?" Destiny whispered, horrified.
"I know it was," Matthew said, his jaw clenching. "The brake lines were corroded with chemical acid. But I couldn't prove it in court because the vehicle burned in the impound lot forty-eight hours after the crash."
Matthew walked over to the tall glass window, staring out into the rain-drenched dark.
"Samuel saw who opened the garage door that night before they left his grandmother's house," Matthew said. "He knows who touched the car. And three days after the crash, Richard came to this house to 'pay his respects.' The moment Richard walked into Samuel's room, Samuel stopped talking. He hasn't made a sound since."
Destiny stood up from the sofa, the full weight of the situation crashing over her.
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Samuel wasn't just traumatized by the loss of his mother.
He was terrified that if he spoke, the man who killed his mother would come back to finish the job.
