Chapter 3 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Die
The phone call lasted only eight seconds.
But those eight seconds changed everything.
Emmett stood beneath the magnolia trees with the phone still pressed against his ear long after the call had ended.
The morning breeze moved through the garden.
The flowers around us swayed gently.
Everything looked peaceful.
Almost cruelly peaceful.
Because somewhere beyond those gates, someone had already planned Emmett Howerin’s death.
And now they knew their plan had failed.
I watched him carefully.
The man standing beside me was not the same man who had walked out of the mansion minutes earlier.
Before, he had been a billionaire.
A businessman.
A man who controlled companies, signed contracts, and made decisions that affected thousands of lives.
Now?
He was simply a person who had discovered that the people closest to him wanted him gone.
“Mr. Howerin…”
He looked at me.
“Emmett.”
I hesitated.
“What?”
“If they know you’re alive…”
His eyes moved toward the gate.
“They will try again.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
The calmness in his voice frightened me more than panic would have.
“You’re not scared?”
A faint smile appeared.
Not a happy one.
A tired one.
“I’m terrified.”
I blinked.
I didn’t expect honesty from him.
Powerful people usually hid fear.
They buried it beneath confidence and expensive clothing.
But Emmett didn’t.
He looked at the black sedan waiting outside.
“I’m just more afraid of pretending I’m not.”
For some reason, that answer stayed with me.
Maybe because I knew what it felt like.
I had spent years pretending.
Pretending I wasn’t tired.
Pretending I wasn’t struggling.
Pretending losing everything didn’t hurt.
Everyone thought poor people were strong because they had nothing to lose.
The truth was different.
People with nothing often had the most to lose.
Because every small thing mattered.
A job.
A home.
A person you loved.
A little hope that tomorrow might be better.
Emmett looked at the recorder.
“Tell me exactly what happened yesterday.”
I took a deep breath.
“After lunch, I went to clean the greenhouse.”
“Why?”
“Because Mrs. Howerin asked the gardeners to prepare the flowers for the engagement party.”
His expression changed.
“Mrs. Howerin?”
I corrected myself.
“Beatrice.”
He looked away.
The title hurt him.
I continued.
“The greenhouse door was open. I heard voices.”
“Warren and Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“What were they discussing?”
I closed my eyes, remembering.
The sound of their voices.
The confidence.
The complete lack of fear.
“They were talking about your meeting today.”
“And?”
“They said everything was already arranged.”
Emmett’s jaw tightened.
“What exactly did they say?”
I swallowed.
“Warren said the bridge accident would look natural.”
The word accident sounded wrong.
Because it wasn’t.
It was murder.
“He said no one would question it because construction had already caused problems in that area.”
Emmett looked toward the road.
Talmage Bridge.
The place where he was supposed to die.
“Anything else?”
I hesitated.
“There was something about insurance.”
That made him turn back.
“What about insurance?”
“I don’t know. The audio became unclear.”
His eyes narrowed.
“They were planning more than killing me.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I thought the same thing.
A dead billionaire was one thing.
A dead billionaire with the right paperwork was something else.
Inheritance.
Companies.
Assets.
Control.
People rarely killed for anger.
They killed for opportunity.
Emmett walked slowly toward the greenhouse.
I followed.
Inside, the air smelled like soil and flowers.
Normally, this was my favorite place on the property.
A place where everything grew quietly.
A place where broken things could be repaired.
But that morning, even the greenhouse felt different.
Danger had entered every corner of the estate.
Emmett stopped near the table where I had found the recorder.
“Where did Daniel search your bag?”
I pointed toward the employee entrance.
“Near the storage shed.”
“Did he know you had the recorder?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
His voice was gentle but direct.
I looked down.
“He saw me holding it.”
“When?”
“The day before yesterday.”
“What happened?”
I remembered.
I had been sitting behind the greenhouse after lunch.
Recording my notes for Lucas.
Daniel walked past.
He stopped.
He looked at the recorder.
Then he asked:
“What’s that?”
I told him.
He laughed.
He said:
“Still using that old thing? You should throw it away.”
At the time, I thought he was joking.
Now I knew.
He wasn’t.
“He knew,” I whispered.
Emmett nodded.
“Yes.”
A strange feeling moved through me.
Fear.
But also guilt.
Because if Daniel knew…
Then maybe someone had been watching me.
Maybe someone had known from the beginning.
“Why me?”
The question escaped before I could stop it.
Emmett looked at me.
“What?”
“Why would they care about a gardener?”
He was quiet.
Then he said something I didn’t expect.
“Because people like you are dangerous.”
I frowned.
“Dangerous?”
“Yes.”
He walked closer.
“People underestimate you.”
I didn’t know how to respond.
“You think powerful people are dangerous because they have money, connections, and influence.”
He looked around the greenhouse.
“But sometimes the most dangerous person in a room is the one everyone ignores.”
I looked away.
Nobody had ever described me that way.
Usually, people described me as invisible.
Not dangerous.
Not important.
Invisible.
Emmett’s phone rang again.
This time, it was his lawyer.
He answered.
“Marcus.”
A pause.
Then his expression changed.
“What do you mean frozen?”
I watched him carefully.
He listened.
His face became harder.
“Since when?”
Another pause.
“Do not authorize anything.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?”
He stared at the floor.
“My company accounts are being accessed.”
My stomach dropped.
“By who?”
“Someone using my executive authorization.”
“But you’re here.”
“Yes.”
“Then how?”
His eyes met mine.
“That’s the problem.”
A chill ran through me.
Someone had planned everything.
The fake driver.
The bridge.
The accident.
The financial transfer.
And whoever was behind it had access to everything.
Emmett’s phone buzzed again.
A message.
He opened it.
His face changed.
I saw the screen from where I stood.
It was a photo.
A picture of us.
Taken moments ago.
Behind the magnolia trees.
My heart stopped.
The message contained only one sentence.
You should have stayed quiet.
I stepped back.
Someone was watching us.
Right now.
At the estate.
Emmett immediately moved in front of me.
Protecting me.
I noticed.
And that scared me even more.
Because he was a man who had spent his entire life being protected.
But now…
He was protecting a gardener.
“Stay behind me,” he said.
I shook my head.
“No.”
His eyes turned toward me.
“No?”
“You need someone who notices things.”
For the first time that morning…
A real expression crossed his face.
Not anger.
Not suspicion.
Respect.
Then we heard a sound.
A door closing.
Inside the mansion.
Someone was leaving.
Emmett looked toward the house.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Please.”
The word surprised me.
Not an order.
A request.
I nodded.
He walked toward the mansion.
Slowly.
Carefully.
I watched him disappear through the garden doors.
For almost a minute, nothing happened.
Then I heard a crash.
A loud one.
I ran.
I knew I shouldn’t.
But I did.
Inside the mansion hallway, I found Emmett standing beside a broken picture frame.
And on the floor…
Was a photograph.
A photograph of his father.
With a handwritten note attached.
Emmett picked it up.
His face became pale.
“What does it say?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
I stepped closer.
The note had only five words.
Your father knew too much.
The hallway became silent.
Because suddenly, this was no longer just about Beatrice.
Or Warren.
Or a stolen company.
Someone had been hiding a secret inside the Howerin family for years.
May you like
And Emmett’s father…
May not have died naturally either.
