Chapter 4
From this moment on, I was no longer the gentle wife.
I was Luka's mother, ready to fight for him on the battlefield.
I needed to see for myself what secrets the closet was hiding.
I needed to find out what kind of grand scheme Manuel and Lilian, that wicked mother and son, were cooking up.
As an interior designer, I was pretty familiar with all miniature inspection devices.
That afternoon, I claimed it was for a work project and headed to the electronics market to pick up an industrial-grade mini endoscope camera.
This camera had a built-in light at the tip and could snake its way through even the tiniest cracks, sending live video directly to my phone.
My opportunity came sooner than I expected.
That evening, Lilian grabbed her shopping basket and headed out, saying she was off to the local supermarket to pick up some fresh veggies.
I knew this was her daily routine.
As soon as she stepped out, I locked the door behind her and made a beeline for the master bedroom.
My heart was hammering in my chest, every thump loud and unmistakable.
I knelt before the icy closet, pulled out the endoscope, and carefully slid the slender camera through the tiny gap at the bottom, less than a centimeter wide.
The phone screen was pitch black at first.
I switched on the LED light at the tip of the camera.
The instant the light flickered on, what appeared on my screen sent my stomach into knots.
The huge space I once used for storing clothes and bedding had become a filthy, cramped, and sickening hideout.
A single mattress was sprawled on the floor, buried under a heap of tangled sheets and blankets.
Beside the mattress, snack wrappers, empty drink bottles, and leftover instant noodle containers were strewn everywhere.
In the corner, a covered portable toilet lurked, reeking with a stench that was impossible to ignore.
My husband, Manuel, was sitting cross-legged on the mattress.
He was in a wrinkled pair of pajamas, his hair greasy, face scruffy with stubble, totally lost in whatever he was doing on his laptop.
Behind him, a massive, glaring green screen was stretched out.
My eyes widened in shock.
It was the green screen.
That explained everything!
All those so-called backgrounds of his Alakapo apartment study were nothing but high-res images, faked with a green screen!
I cursed inwardly.
He'd been running a six-month international scam right under my nose, using classic IT geek tricks to fool me!
The hatred and disgust were so overwhelming that I nearly gagged.
I forced myself to stay calm, clutching my phone tightly as I recorded every second of this ridiculous, filthy scene inside the closet.
Another piece of evidence was added to my collection.
Now, I needed to uncover the secret behind these so-called "seven days."
There had to be money at the heart of it all.
It was time for our nightly video call.
Manuel's face popped up on the screen again, with that spotless, bright "Alakapo study" as his backdrop.
He looked like he'd just freshened up, hair neatly combed, wearing a crisp shirt, back to being that warm, attentive husband.
Staring at his fake, two-faced expression, I felt a chill run through me.
After some casual chit-chat, I pretended to be nonchalant and brought up the topic, masking my true intentions behind a calm facade.
I said, acting calm. "Hey, babe, a friend told me about this high-yield investment project. It sounds pretty promising.
"We've still got some cash sitting in our joint account, so how about I try investing a bit first?"
The moment I finished, Manuel's eyes flickered with an unmistakable greed and nervousness.
He jumped in, cutting me off right away. "No! Seriously, don't mess with that money!"
His voice suddenly got tense. "Honey, you really don't get it. That stuff's super risky! I've got something huge planned for that cash, so leave it alone until I get back, okay?"
His reaction was way more intense than I'd imagined.
That just made me even more certain that the core of their plot was the money in our joint account.
That account held every penny we'd saved over the years, plus part of the inheritance from my parents, almost 700 thousand dollars in total.
After hanging up the video call, I wasted no time and started plotting my next move.
The next day, I called the building management and complained that our router was busted. The internet was spotty, and it was ruining my work-from-home setup.
The repair guy showed up in no time.
While Lilian was busy watching the repairman, I pretended to grab something from my room and quickly set up two pinhole cameras with audio function.
I put one hidden behind a decoration on the living room TV stand, and the other on the hallway ceiling, aimed right at the master bedroom closet.
This was the most direct way I could think of to catch their conversations.
Everything was ready. Now, all I could do was wait.
That night, after I put Luka to bed, I slipped on my headphones and fired up the app on my phone that connected to the cameras.
In the living room, Lilian was watching TV.