Chapter 3 - The Mistress's Greed
The heavy operating room doors swung shut with a loud, absolute click, sealing Claire away from the toxic monster she had married.
Grant frantically smoothed his dark suit, trying to regain his composure. He walked quickly back to the sterile waiting area where Tessa was sitting. The mistress in the striking red evening gown looked entirely out of place in the bright hospital lighting. She wasn't crying. She wasn't worried. She looked incredibly bored and toxically arrogant.
"Is she dead yet?" Tessa whispered coldly, not even bothering to look up from her designer handbag.
"Keep your voice down!" Grant hissed viciously, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a secluded corner of the waiting room. "We are in a public hospital, Tessa! You need to act like you're comforting a grieving friend!"
Tessa rolled her eyes, pulling her arm out of his aggressive grip.
"Relax, Grant," Tessa sneered, adjusting her red dress. "You cut the brake lines yourself. I watched you do it in the garage last night. The cops are going to write it off as a tragic mechanical failure. We just have to wait for the doctors to pronounce her, and then the fifty million is ours."
Grant’s jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached. He looked back at the closed surgical doors. The terrifying, ice-cold look in Claire's eyes when she ripped off the oxygen mask was burning a massive hole in his confidence.
"She said something to me before they took her in," Grant whispered, his voice trembling with genuine fear. "She told me to stop pretending."
Tessa laughed, a cruel, high-pitched sound that echoed off the white walls.
May you like
"She's heavily medicated and in shock, Grant," Tessa mocked. "She's probably hallucinating. Stop being such a coward. You did the hard part. Now just call the lawyers and secure the assets before her family gets here."
👉 Grant pulled out his smartphone to call his legal team, entirely oblivious to the fact that his phone was already completely cloned.
