Vanessa’s lawyer requested a meeting.

Not with Adrian.

With the prosecutor.

Vanessa wanted a deal.

Her attorney claimed she could provide information about Rachel’s death and Matthew’s plans.

In exchange, she wanted reduced charges.

Adrian hated the idea.

Detective Ramirez did not.

“You want the truth?”

she asked.

“Yes.”

“Then sometimes the worst person in the room becomes useful.”

Vanessa sat in an interview room wearing county-issued clothing instead of designer dresses.

Without makeup and carefully styled hair, she looked different.

Not weaker.

Just less disguised.

The prosecutor placed a recorder on the table.

Vanessa’s attorney nodded.

She began.

“I met Matthew four years ago.”

“Before Rachel Mercer died?”

“Yes.”

Adrian watched through one-way glass.

His fists tightened.

Vanessa continued.

“I wasn’t involved with Rachel.”

“Did you know Matthew intended to harm her?”

“No.”

“Did he ever admit harming her?”

“Not directly.”

“What did he say?”

Vanessa looked toward the mirror.

As though she knew Adrian was behind it.

“He said his first attempt to take control of Mercer had gone badly.”

The prosecutor leaned forward.

“What did that mean?”

“I didn’t ask at first.”

“And later?”

“He told me Rachel had become suspicious.”

Adrian closed his eyes.

“Did he say he killed her?”

“He said he solved the Rachel problem.”

Adrian struck the wall with his palm.

Ramirez looked at him.

He stepped backward.

Inside the room, Vanessa continued.

“Matthew owed money.”

“He believed Adrian had stolen his inheritance.”

“No one stole anything.”

Vanessa shrugged.

“I’m telling you what he believed.”

“What was your role?”

“To marry Adrian.”

The words came easily.

Almost casually.

“Why?”

“Once I married him, I would influence estate decisions.”

“And if he refused?”

Vanessa hesitated.

Her attorney whispered something.

She continued.

“Matthew had contingency plans.”

“What plans?”

“A staged accident.”

Adrian felt his stomach turn.

“What kind?”

“Car.”

“Boat.”

“Fall.”

“He kept changing his mind.”

“What about the children?”

Vanessa’s expression shifted.

“Olivia was supposed to be sent away.”

“Where?”

“Boarding school first.”

“Then Matthew wanted records showing emotional instability.”

“Why?”

“So if Adrian died, she couldn’t challenge decisions immediately.”

“And Emma?”

Vanessa looked down.

“She was supposed to stay with me.”

“Why?”

“Because she was easier.”

The prosecutor’s expression hardened.

“Easier to what?”

“Control.”

Behind the glass, Adrian’s breathing became louder.

Ramirez touched his arm.

“Stay here.”

Inside, the prosecutor continued.

“Explain the stroller.”

Vanessa went silent.

“Ms. Cole.”

“I wanted Clara gone.”

“Why?”

“She was ruining everything.”

“How?”

“Emma trusted her.”

“Olivia trusted her.”

“Adrian listened to her more than he realized.”

“So you tried to frame her.”

“Yes.”

“You pushed an occupied stroller toward a staircase.”

Vanessa’s attorney whispered again.

Vanessa shook her head.

“I thought Clara would catch it.”

The prosecutor stared at her.

“You risked the life of an eleven-month-old infant because you expected the nanny to save her?”

“I knew Clara was in the kitchen.”

“What if she hadn’t reached the stroller?”

Vanessa did not answer.

“What if Emma had died?”

Still nothing.

Finally Vanessa whispered.

“Then Matthew said the plan would still work.”

Adrian turned away from the glass.

He could not listen.

Ramirez remained.

Five minutes later, she came into the hallway.

“There’s more.”

Adrian looked at her.

“What?”

“Vanessa says Matthew has another set of documents.”

“Where?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“What documents?”

“Evidence he planned to use if she ever betrayed him.”

“Against her?”

“Against everyone.”

Adrian frowned.

Ramirez continued.

“She says Matthew kept what he called an insurance archive.”

“Proof of every illegal thing he had done.”

“Why?”

“To protect himself.”

“Where is it?”

“She only knows the clue he gave her.”

Adrian waited.

Ramirez read from her notes.

“Where Father built the first Mercer house.”

Adrian’s face changed.

He knew exactly where that was.

Their childhood home had been demolished twenty years ago.

But one structure still remained on the property.

His father’s old stone workshop.