Mirabelle’s POV:
Carter’s eyes widened slightly, his posture straightening. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I said, my voice firmer now. “I’m sure. I’ve seen him a lot of time. It’s Samuel. But why? Why would he…?”
My words trailed off, the room seeming to tilt around me as I tried to make sense of what I had just seen. Samuel? Noah’s manager? It didn’t make sense, but there was no denying what was in front of me.
Carter leaned back. “This changes things.” He said, as he massaged his temples. “If what you’re saying is true, Mrs. Sylvester, then we’ll have to bring him in for questioning.”
My hands were clammy. “Yes.” I managed to say, my voice barely holding together. “You have to. He’s the one.”
“Alright.” Carter said, closing the laptop and giving me a long, hard look. “I’ll handle it from here. We’ll contact you as soon as we have more information.”
I nodded. As I stood to leave, Carter reached out. “Take care of yourself, ma’am.”
I forced a tight smile. “I hope so…” I said, my voice breaking on the last word.
I stumbled out of the police station. The sun was bright, too bright, and the sharp rays hurt my eyes. When I reached my car, I slipped inside and shut the door, feeling the small space swallow me up.
My hands trembled as I started the engine, but then I froze. I wasn’t ready to drive. My mind was spinning too fast, making everything blurry.
I turned off the engine and leaned my head back, trying to take deep breaths. I needed to speak to Noah, to make sense of what I’d just witnessed.
Samuel’s face still haunted me, but there had to be an explanation. He needed to know what his manager did.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, my fingers trembling as I dialed Noah’s number. My breath hitched as I waited.
One ring. Two. Three.
Then he picked up, but there was no response.
“Noah?” I said, my voice shaking. “Noah, are you there?”
The silence stretched on, and I was about to end the call, thinking it was a bad connection, when I heard something-a murmur. A woman’s voice, sharp and demanding. My blood ran cold. I quickly pressed the phone back to my ear, straining to make out what they were saying.
“Noah, why didn’t you just send her the divorce papers?” The voice was Natasha’s. Every muscle in my body tensed, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. “Why go as far as burning down her company?”
I couldn’t breathe. The phone almost slipped from my hand, but I gripped it tighter, trying to stay silent, to catch every word.
Noah’s reply was clear, his voice filled with a venom I had never heard before. “Serving her divorce papers would make things easy for her. I am the reason she’s everything she is today, and I need to make sure that I take everything back before divorcing her. Even if it means ruining her reputation, and burning down every single company she has purchased.”
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Noah would never… he wouldn’t…
I ended the call, my entire body shaking. My phone fell from my hand into my lap. No, no, no… This couldn’t be true. Noah wouldn’t do something so insane, so cruel.
He was the one person I thought I could trust-my anchor in a world that had gone mad. But then a quiet, insistent voice whispered in the back of my mind, a voice I didn’t want to hear.
Ken and Noah are of the same blood. The realization hit me like a wave. Both are Michael Sylvester’s biological sons.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my breathing growing ragged as a flood of memories crashed over me-the stories of Michael Sylvester’s betrayal, of how he had flaunted his affair while his wife lay dying, of how he had brought another woman into their home the moment his wife passed.
And then there was Ken, the man who had set me up to be humiliated and used, just to force me into a divorce.
Was Noah really that different? Was he capable of that same cold-blooded behavior, that same willingness to destroy his wife for his own gain?
I couldn’t hold it back any longer. A strangled sob tore from my throat, and I slammed my forehead against the steering wheel.
Once.
Twice.
Over and over until the pain worsened, until my frustration spilled out in choked screams. I couldn’t stop.
Then there was a sudden tap on the window. I looked up, startled, my breath hitching in my throat. A woman stood there, her uniform made it known to me that she was an officer.
Rolling down my window. “Is everything alright?” I asked.
“I should actually be asking you that question, Ma’am. Are you alright?” She asked, leaning down.
Wiping my tear-streaked face with the back of my hand, I replied . “I’m… I’m fine.” I lied, forcing out a tight smile. “Just… just a bad day.”
The officer’s eyes were skeptical, but she didn’t press me. Instead, her gaze flickered to my nose, her brow furrowing. “Are you sure?” She asked. “You’re bleeding.”
I blinked, confused, before I felt the warm trickle on my upper lip. I brought my fingers to my nose, feeling the slick wetness of blood. A laugh escaped me as I grabbed the sleeve of my shirt and wiped it away, brushing off her concern. “I’m sorry.” I said quickly. “I just… I really have to go. I’m sorry for the disturbance.”
Without waiting for her response, I rolled up the window, started the car, and drove out of the parking lot. My hands were steady on the wheel, but inside I was falling apart. I used the back of my sleeve to wipe the blood from my nose again, the fabric turning red as I pressed harder.
Then my phone rang, startling me. I glanced at the screen, seeing Ken’s name flashing. I didn’t want to talk to him. Not now. But he kept calling, and after the fifth time, I swore under my breath and picked up, connecting it to the car’s Bluetooth.
“Ken, what is it?” I said, my voice rough and hoarse.
I heard his rapid, uneven breathing through the speakers. “Mira… I… I don’t know what to do.” He said, his voice broken, almost panicked.
“Ken, calm down ” I said, my heart racing again. I remembered how he would sound like this whenever he was on the verge of a panic attack, struggling to hold himself together. “What’s going on?”
He sucked in a shaky breath. “The ship… the one importing the raw materials from Africa.” He began, his voice shaking. “It was hijacked. Earlier today. And before I could get help, they reported… they reported that it sank. All of it, Mira. Everything we spent months securing… it’s at the bottom of the ocean now.”