Chapter 9
The next three months were a nightmare.
Victoria's people kept coming.
They tried to break into the mansion twice. The security guards caught them both times, but not before they'd spray-painted threats on the front doors. They poisoned the horses in the stable—two of them died. They sent threatening packages to the house—dead animals, burned photos of my family, more letters with the same slanted handwriting.
Tick tock, little girl.
Tick tock.
The police did what they could. They increased patrols. They traced the packages—but they always led to dead ends. Paid couriers. Fake names. No trail back to Victoria.
Nathaniel spent a fortune on security. Bodyguards followed us everywhere. Cameras covered every inch of the property. The gates were reinforced with steel. The windows were bulletproof.
But it wasn't enough.
We were prisoners in our own home.
I couldn't go to school anymore—I had a tutor come to the mansion. I couldn't play outside. I couldn't have friends over. Every time the phone rang, we all jumped. Every time a car drove down the driveway, the security guards grabbed their guns.
And then, three days before Victoria's appeal hearing, the worst happened.
She got out.
Not on appeal. On bail.
Her lawyers had found a technicality—a mistake in the original search warrant that had been used to get the flash drive. The judge had ruled that some of the evidence was inadmissible. Without it, the prosecution's case was weaker. Victoria had been released on a ten-million-dollar bond, ordered to stay under house arrest at her penthouse in the city.
But we all knew house arrest wouldn't stop her.
That night, we sat in the library—the room with the couch and the TV, the room we'd made ours—and talked about what to do.
"We have to leave," my mom said. "Tonight. We'll go to the airport. We'll fly to Europe. Or Asia. Anywhere she can't find us."
Nathaniel shook his head. "Running isn't the answer. She has money. She has connections. She'd find us. Eventually. And then what? We spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders? I'm not doing that to Ruby. I'm not doing that to us."
"Then what do you suggest?" my mom asked, her voice rising. "We stay here and wait for her to kill us? Because that's what she's going to do, Nathaniel. You know it as well as I do. She's not going to stop until one of us is dead."
"I know," Nathaniel said. He ran a hand through his hair. "But we fight back. We don't run. We finish this. Once and for all."
"How?" I asked.
Both of them looked at me. I'd been quiet for most of the conversation, sitting on the couch, twisting the hem of my shirt.
"She wants me," I said. "That's what all of this is about. Me. She blames me for everything. For getting caught. For losing the company. For going to prison. If I'm the bait... maybe we can catch her."
"Absolutely not," my mom said immediately. "I am not using my nine-year-old daughter as bait for a psychopath."
"Mom," I said. "She's not going to stop. You said it yourself. She's going to keep coming until one of us is dead. And I'd rather it be on our terms than hers." I looked at Nathaniel. "Dad. You said the police can't get anything on her because she uses other people to do her dirty work. But what if she comes after me herself? What if we can get her on tape admitting to everything? The brake lines. The poison. The horses. The murder. All of it. Then they can put her away forever. Right?"
Nathaniel was quiet for a long time. He looked at my mom. Then at me.
"It's dangerous," he said finally. "Incredibly dangerous. If anything goes wrong—"
"What if we set it up here?" I said. "In the mansion. With the police hiding. With cameras everywhere. With you two right there. She'd never be able to touch me. Not really."
My mom was crying now. "I hate this. I hate that we even have to talk about this."
"I know," Nathaniel said, putting his arm around her. "But Ruby's right. It's the only way. We let Victoria think she's won. We let her think she can get to Ruby. And when she makes her move... we catch her. Red-handed."
The plan was set.
The next two days were a blur of activity.
The FBI moved in. They hid cameras in every room of the mansion. They put microphones in the light fixtures, behind the paintings, even in the plants. Twenty agents moved into the secret passages that ran through the old house—passages that had been built during Prohibition, forgotten for decades, now perfect for hiding.
Nathaniel made a big show of firing most of the security team. "We can't afford it anymore," he told the few people he kept on, loud enough for any listening devices to pick up. "The company is failing. We're broke." He let the newspapers get wind of it. "Graves Empire Crumbling." "Nathaniel Graves On The Brink Of Bankruptcy."
It was all a lie, of course. But Victoria didn't know that.
And then we waited.
The third night after Victoria's release, it happened.
I was in my bedroom, the lights off, pretending to be asleep. The plan was simple—Victoria would sneak into the house, come to my room, try to take me or hurt me, and the FBI would burst in and arrest her.
At two o'clock in the morning, I heard it.
The faint creak of the back door opening.
Soft footsteps on the stairs.
My heart was hammering in my chest. I gripped the baseball bat under my covers. The tiny microphone in my hair—hidden in a braid—was transmitting everything to the agents in the walls.
The doorknob to my room turned.
Slowly.
Quietly.
The door opened.
A figure slipped inside. Dressed all in black. A hood covering their face. Gloves on their hands.
They walked across the room toward my bed.
I closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep.
They stopped right next to me. I could feel their presence. Smell their perfume—expensive, sharp, familiar.
Victoria.
She reached out a hand. I could feel it hovering over my shoulder.
"Got you," she whispered.
The lights came on.
The doors burst open.
"FBI! DON'T MOVE!"
Victoria spun around, her eyes wide. Agents flooded the room, guns drawn. Nathaniel and my mom were right behind them, my mom screaming my name, Nathaniel pulling me out of bed and into his arms.
But Victoria didn't look scared.
She looked... amused.
She pulled her hood back. Her blonde hair was messy. Her eyes were bright.
"You think this is over?" she laughed. "You think you've won?" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small black remote. "I have enough C-4 in the basement to blow this entire mansion to kingdom come. One push of this button, and we all go to hell together. You, me, the little brat, and every one of your little FBI friends."
The agents froze.
Nathaniel held me tighter. My mom put herself between me and Victoria.
"You're bluffing," Nathaniel said.
"Am I?" Victoria smiled. "Remember Father? I watched him die. I watched the life leave his eyes. Do you really think I have any problem dying myself? As long as I take you all with me?" Her thumb hovered over the button. "Put the guns down. All of you. Or I push it."
The lead agent signaled. The guns lowered.
"Good," Victoria said. "Now. Here's what's going to happen. Nathaniel—you're going to sign over every share of Graves Energy to me. Right now. Clara—you're going to sign a document giving up all parental rights to Ruby. And you, little girl..." She looked at me, her eyes burning. "You're going to come with me. And you're going to spend the rest of your miserable life wishing you'd never been born."
"No," Nathaniel said. "I won't do it."
"Then we all die," Victoria said. Her thumb pressed down slightly on the button. "Three. Two. One—"
"Wait!"
The voice came from the doorway.
Everyone turned.
It was Tyler.
He was standing in the hall, wearing jeans and a hoodie, his hair messy. He'd run away from his dad's house three days before. No one had seen him since.
"Tyler?" Victoria said, confused. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard everything," he said. His voice was shaking. "The whole time. I was in the attic. I heard you talking to the guys who cut the brakes. I heard you talking about poisoning Aunt Clara. I heard you talking about blowing up the house." He pulled out his phone. "I recorded it. All of it. I sent it to the police ten minutes ago. They're on their way."
Victoria's face went white. "You little traitor. After everything I did for you—"
"You didn't do anything for me," Tyler said, his voice rising. "You used me. You made me lie. You made me hate Ruby for no reason. And now you're going to kill all of us? I'm not going to let you."
Victoria screamed. She raised the remote, her thumb coming down on the button.
The lead agent fired.
One shot.
It hit Victoria in the shoulder. She dropped the remote. It clattered to the floor. Two agents tackled her before she could reach it. They cuffed her. They dragged her out of the room, screaming and kicking.
"You'll pay for this!" she yelled. "You'll all pay!"
The lead agent picked up the remote. He examined it. Then he looked up, his face pale.
"It was real," he said. "The C-4 is in the basement. We have to evacuate. Now."
We ran.
Nathaniel grabbed me. My mom grabbed Tyler. The agents herded us all out of the house and down the driveway, just as the bomb squad arrived.
We stood at the end of the driveway, watching as men in protective suits went into the house. Ten minutes later, they came back out.
"It's disarmed," one of them said. "You're safe."
I collapsed against my dad, crying. My mom was crying too. Tyler was standing off to the side, his arms crossed, looking like he wanted to disappear.
Nathaniel walked over to him. He put his hand on Tyler's shoulder.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "You saved all of our lives."
Tyler shrugged, but I saw the tears in his eyes. "I just... I didn't want anyone to get hurt. Not anymore."
The police arrived a few minutes later. They took Victoria away—this time, there would be no bail. No technicalities. No appeals. Tyler had recorded everything. Her own words would put her in prison for the rest of her life.
We stood there in the driveway, watching the lights flash, as the sun started to come up over the trees.
May you like
It was over.
Really over.
