The Billionaire’s Fiancée Secretly Abused His Elderly Mother—Then Blamed the Maid Who Tried to Save Her. But One Signature Dated Tomorrow Exposed a Terrifying Secret!

By midnight, Celeste had left the estate with a small suitcase and a lawyer. Adrian had told her the engagement was suspended. She hadn't cried that time.

"You'll regret trusting a servant over your future wife," she said at the gate.

"Naomi has a name," he replied.

At the hospital, Evelyn asked for the blue notebook in her bedside drawer.

Marcus brought it in a sealed envelope with the rest of her personal belongings. Naomi recognized its cracked cloth cover. Evelyn used it to record birthdays, appointments, and small things she didn't want age to erase.

But the newest pages weren't ordinary notes.

Monday: Celeste moved my pills. Tuesday: Slept through lunch. Wednesday: Asked to sign blank page. Thursday: Naomi must not leave me alone with her.

Adrian read them twice.

"Why didn't you show me?"

"Because," Evelyn said, her voice thin, "I needed to know what she was doing before she made you choose."

"I would have believed you."

Evelyn looked at him for a long time.

"Would you?"

He couldn't answer.

Naomi pulled up a chair.

"There's something else," she said. "The day Celeste started keeping the door shut, Mrs. Vale gave me a little recorder for her stories. She said typing tired her hands."

Evelyn's eyes sharpened.

"My father's stories," she whispered. "The ones for the grandchildren."

"Where is it?" Adrian asked.

"In the drawer under her sewing basket. I haven't checked whether it was running."

Evelyn reached for his sleeve.

"Don't go alone."

Then Adrian's phone lit up with an email from the trust's bank.

URGENT: AUTHORIZED TRANSFER INSTRUCTIONS RECEIVED.