The crystal shattered, but the estate manager quickly recovered her arrogant smirk.
“Alejandro, darling, she’s insane,” she sneered, stepping down the stairs. “She wandered in off the street…”
Alejandro didn’t even look at her. He kept his eyes entirely on Elena.
And just like that, Elena’s tears evaporated. Her trembling ceased. The terrified, broken maid vanished, replaced by a razor-sharp, chilling smile as she casually brushed the dirt from her knees.
The black liquid she had been frantically scrubbing wasn’t dirty mop water. It was a highly corrosive thermal solvent. And it was rapidly eating through the grout of the exact marble tile positioned directly above the estate manager’s subterranean server room.
For three years, Elena wasn’t a helpless victim. She was a ghost.
When the manager and a corrupt board of directors originally ordered a hit on her, Elena had faked her disappearance and infiltrated her own empire from the absolute bottom. Playing the abused servant was the only way to bypass the mansion’s lethal security grid, plant the bugs, and map the sprawling web of embezzlement draining Alejandro’s fortune.
Alejandro’s phone hadn’t displayed a text from a bodyguard. It was a silent ping from Elena’s smartwatch. She had finally extracted the master ledger.
*”Destroy everything.”*
It wasn’t an emotional outburst. It was an authorization code to his offshore tech team.
Beneath the floorboards, servers sparked and ignited, incinerating the digital blackmail files the manager used to control the company. Simultaneously, the manager’s phone chimed. She looked down, all color draining from her face as her hidden bank accounts plummeted to $0.00.
Heavy steel shutters slammed down over the glass doors. Police sirens wailed in the distance.
Alejandro pulled his wife into a fierce embrace. “You missed a spot,” he whispered.
“I know,” Elena smirked, glaring at the manager. “I’ll let her clean it.”