Chapter 5
In that instant, my whole world shattered.
The video kept playing.
Michael's voice was so calm, so matter-of-fact.
It was like he was talking about a regular business deal.
"She lets her guard down, especially around me," Michael said. "Copy how I sound, and she'll definitely let you in.
"Once you're inside, get it done fast. Make sure everything's cleaned up. Leave no evidence behind."
Behind the scenes, Michael was calmly calling the shots.
The masked man didn't say a word.
He stood in front of the mirror, rehearsing Michael's grin again and again.
I'd seen that smile a thousand times. It was tender and indulgent.
I used to think it was the warmest expression in the world.
But now, it felt colder than a snake's venom.
The video was a few minutes long, barely any time at all.
But for me, it dragged on like a whole century.
Every frame and every word stabbed into me like a poisoned blade.
They shredded my heart until there was nothing left but pain and blood.
At the end of the video, Michael walked up to the imposter.
He patted the imposter on the shoulder. "After the job's done, you'll get the remaining payment in your account. Pleasure doing business with you."
And with that, the video ended.
The screen went dark and showed my face, pale as a sheet.
I sat there, stunned, unable to move.
My mind went completely blank.
It was all a lie from the start, a trap planned for me.
And the one who set it all up was the husband I loved and trusted most.
Why would he do something like this? Was it all for the money?
150 thousand dollars for a life? Was that all I was worth to him?
No, it wasn't about the money.
I remembered how his parents looked at the funeral, absolutely shattered by grief.
They were truly devastated.
That proved they were completely in the dark about Michael's plan.
Was Michael's death really an accident?
Was the plane crash really a coincidence? Or...
A more terrifying thought crept into my mind.
He pulled a disappearing act by faking his death.
He orchestrated the whole thing and sold me out to that killer.
And he boarded a plane that was destined to go down.
Everyone thought he was dead.
But he could take my insurance payout and that dirty money, flee to a place where no one knew him, and start a new life under a new identity.
What a perfect plan. It was flawless.
If that flight hadn't been unexpectedly delayed, if he hadn't sent that WhatsApp message to reassure me, and if that killer hadn't shown up at my door right on schedule, I would've died without ever knowing what really happened.
But he would've gotten away with it all.
When I thought about it, my whole body started trembling even more.
It wasn't fear. It was pure rage.
A tidal wave of hatred erupted in my chest, like a volcano going off inside me.
I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails bit into my flesh.
Did Michael think death would solve everything? Did he believe his scheme would go perfectly unexposed? Did he really think his plan worked?
No, I wouldn't let him have his way.
He owed me, and I would make him pay me back a thousandfold.
And that hitman, the monster in your mask, he wouldn't escape my wrath, either.
I would make them see I was never a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
I wiped the tears from my face and pushed myself up off the floor.
Crying and feeling weak wouldn't change a thing.
I knew exactly what I had to do now was to track down that hitman, and then find proof that Michael was still alive.
I copied both the video and the ledger onto an encrypted USB drive. This was my most vital piece of evidence.
I kept the USB drive hidden on me, making sure it was safe.
Then I began mapping out my next plan.
Would that hitman come back for more?
Michael was dead, and the hitman still hadn't received his remaining payment.
Would he really walk away? I didn't think so.
Someone like him was a reckless, money-driven criminal.
150 thousand dollars was more than enough to make him take another risk.
He'd definitely try to find a way to contact Michael.
And right now, I was the only one who could reach him.
I needed a plan, a plan to draw the snake out of hiding.
I stared at Michael's computer.
A bold idea began to take shape in my mind.
I was going to step into Michael's shoes.
I'd live as him, become his double.
With his identity, I'd bait that hitman out of hiding.