Chapter 3 - The Cloud Server He Forgot Existed
Luca brought me home on a gray, overcast Thursday afternoon.
The house smelled faintly of bleach and lavender air freshener, an obvious attempt by Wendy to erase the stench of boiling soup and scorched skin. As Luca carried my bag inside, he looked around the foyer with the smug pride of a conqueror surveying newly acquired territory.
“Look at this place,” he murmured, placing a heavy hand on my uninjured shoulder. “Once we knock down the dividing walls and convert the whole ground floor into an open-concept entertainment hall, we can flip it for four million easy. The developer called again this morning. They want the paperwork finalized by Monday.”
I leaned heavily on the banister, wincing from the pain in my healing side. “I need a few days to rest, Luca. The doctor said any stress could trigger premature labor.”
Wendy walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a silk towel. “A few days is fine, darling. But on Monday morning, the notary comes here. You sign the transfer, we put the money into Luca’s commercial trust, and we set up the nursery in the high-rise downtown. You won’t have to lift a finger.”
“I’ll sign on Monday,” I said quietly, looking down at the hardwood floor to hide the hatred burning in my eyes.
Luca smiled—a broad, dazzling smile that once made me believe he was my prince. He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “That’s my good girl. Go upstairs and lie down. I have meetings with my investors tonight to tell them the good news.”
Upstairs in my father’s old bedroom, I locked the door from the inside and pulled the heavy blackout curtains shut.
My heart was hammering against my ribs. I sat down on the edge of the mattress, pulled out a burner phone Marcus Vance’s courier had slipped into my medical chart during discharge, and powered it on.
A single notification popped up: Encrypted Link Received.
I tapped the screen. A password prompt appeared. I typed in my father’s birthday: 04121962.
Instantly, a crystal-clear high-definition video player opened.
The timestamp showed Sunday afternoon, 2:14 PM.
The video quality was so sharp I could see the steam rising off the stockpot on the stove. I watched myself standing near the counter, holding my belly. I watched Luca’s expression twist from frustration into vicious malice.
Then came the audio.
“Sign it,” Luca commanded.
“No. It’s my inheritance,” I replied.
“You live under my son’s protection, Jessi... Your father left you one house, not an empire...” Wendy’s voice rang out with chilling precision.
“Why are you so desperate for it?”
And then, the shove.
The angle from the grandfather clock captured everything: Luca’s full body lunging forward, his hands slamming into my back, my horrific fall against the boiling pot, the liquid spilling over my arm, and my agonizing scream.
It captured Wendy pointing at the papers, completely unmoved by my suffering.
And most damning of all, the high-fidelity microphone captured Luca staring at the broken ceiling fixture and saying: “Mom, we have to make sure the cops think she slipped. Tell them she lost her balance.”
My hands shook as I watched the video. Tears of rage and vindication rolled down my cheeks.
In the eyes of the law, this was not an accident. It was attempted manslaughter, domestic battery, and conspiracy to commit extortion.
A text message appeared at the bottom of the screen from Marcus:
“The cloud backup is replicated across three offshore servers and locked in a digital vault under my firm's custody. Tomorrow night at 11:45 PM, Luca has a private dinner with his business partners at the downtown steakhouse. Wendy will be asleep. An unmarked SUV will wait at the end of the alley. Pack only what is vital. We are taking you off the grid.”
I typed back a single word: “Ready.”
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I placed the phone beneath the floorboard under my father’s old workbench in the closet, where no one would ever look.
That night, Luca slept soundly on his side of the king bed, dreaming of millions of dollars he would never touch. Beside him, I lay wide awake in the dark, counting the hours until my resurrection would begin.
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