The Unshakeable Queen Returns

Name: The Unshakeable Queen Returns
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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I came home from a business trip, and my husband told me our six-year-old son was dead. He showed me the dashcam footage of Leo dying of heatstroke, left alone in the car by his young nanny, Kendall. But instead of seeking justice, my husband locked me in the car and turned the heat on full blast, recreating our son's final moments. He demanded the password to my phone to delete the footage, snarling that we couldn't ruin a twenty-year-old's future over a "mistake." To force my hand, he had thugs break into my elderly father's nursing home room, threatening him on a live video call. Later, at our son's memorial, he defended Kendall as she took selfies with the casket and played pop music. He helped her show a manipulated video to the crowd, painting me as a negligent, career-obsessed mother. The mourners threw drinks at me while my husband protected his lover. The next day, I learned the truth. My father, after being blackmailed by those same thugs, had taken his own life to protect me. My husband hadn't just covered up a murder; he had caused another. He thought he had won, that he had destroyed all the evidence and broken me completely. But he forgot one thing. The GPS smartwatch on our son's wrist. It recorded everything-not just his death, but every cruel, taunting word Kendall whispered as she let him die.

Family Thriller Betrayal Revenge Divorce

Chapter 9

07-31 22:04

Chapter 1

I came home from a business trip, and my husband told me our six-year-old son was dead. He showed me the dashcam footage of Leo dying of heatstroke, left alone in the car by his young nanny, Kendall.

But instead of seeking justice, my husband locked me in the car and turned the heat on full blast, recreating our son's final moments. He demanded the password to my phone to delete the footage, snarling that we couldn't ruin a twenty-year-old's future over a "mistake."

To force my hand, he had thugs break into my elderly father's nursing home room, threatening him on a live video call.

Later, at our son's memorial, he defended Kendall as she took selfies with the casket and played pop music. He helped her show a manipulated video to the crowd, painting me as a negligent, career-obsessed mother.

The mourners threw drinks at me while my husband protected his lover. The next day, I learned the truth. My father, after being blackmailed by those same thugs, had taken his own life to protect me.

My husband hadn't just covered up a murder; he had caused another. He thought he had won, that he had destroyed all the evidence and broken me completely.

But he forgot one thing. The GPS smartwatch on our son's wrist. It recorded everything-not just his death, but every cruel, taunting word Kendall whispered as she let him die.

Chapter 1

The private jet touched down smoothly, a gentle bump on the tarmac.

Aliyah Williams unfastened her seatbelt, her mind already shifting from the successful merger in Tokyo to her six-year-old son, Leo.

She pulled out her phone, smiling at the lock screen photo. It was Leo, his face smeared with chocolate ice cream, grinning a toothy, innocent grin. She had been gone for four days. It felt like four years.

Her husband, Benedict Howard, was waiting for her at the private terminal. He wasn't smiling. His face was a pale, tight mask. A cold dread washed over Aliyah, chasing away the warmth of her homecoming.

"Ben? What is it? Where' s Leo?"

He didn' t answer. He just took her carry-on and led her to the car. The silence in the black sedan was heavy, suffocating.

"Benedict, you' re scaring me. Tell me what happened."

He finally looked at her, his eyes hollow. "There was an accident, Aliyah."

"An accident? Is Leo okay? Is he at the hospital?"

"He's gone," Benedict said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "Leo is gone."

The words didn't make sense. They were just sounds, hanging in the air. Gone? Leo couldn't be gone. She had just bought him a new model airplane, the one he wanted, tucked safely in her luggage.

"No," she whispered. "That's not funny, Ben. Stop it."

He didn' t stop. He pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed play on a video. The timestamp showed yesterday afternoon. It was the dashcam from their car. The sun glared through the windshield. The camera was aimed at the back seat, where Leo was strapped into his booster seat. He was fanning himself with his hands, his little face flushed red.

"It's hot, Kendall," Leo's small voice said.

The driver's door opened, and Kendall Orr, the company' s new intern, leaned in. She was young, pretty, with a bright smile that now looked sickeningly false.

"I'll be super quick, Leo," Kendall said. "Just running into the store for a minute. Be a good boy."

She shut the door. The lock clicked. The video continued. One minute passed. Then five. Then ten. The temperature display on the dashboard crept up. 105. 110. 115 degrees. Leo started to cry, his pleas for his mommy soft at first, then growing frantic. He struggled against his straps. The car was an oven. The video was a silent movie of his final, terrifying moments.

Aliyah screamed, a raw, animal sound of pure agony. She lunged for the phone, wanting to make it stop, but Benedict pulled it away.

"She left him," Aliyah choked out, tears finally streaming down her face. "She locked him in the car and left him to die."

"We' re going to the police station now," Benedict said, his voice firm. He even reached over and squeezed her hand. "I promise you, Aliyah. She will pay for this."

A tiny shard of hope pierced through her grief. He was her husband. He was Leo' s father. Of course he would want justice. She nodded, clutching his hand like a lifeline as he pulled the car onto the freeway.

They drove for twenty minutes. Aliyah stared out the window, her mind a numb fog of pain. Then she realized they weren't heading toward the downtown police precinct. They were on the outskirts of the city.

"Ben, where are we going?"

He didn' t answer. He just pulled the car over on a deserted access road. With a soft beep, the car doors locked. He turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

Then, he turned the heat on. Full blast.

Hot, dry air blasted from the vents, instantly choking her. It was the same heat from the video. The same suffocating, deadly heat.

"Ben, what are you doing? Turn it off!"

"Give me your phone, Aliyah. And the password."

She stared at him, confused. "What? Why?"

"The dashcam footage is automatically uploaded to a cloud server," he said, his voice calm, rational. "I need your password to log in and delete it."

The world tilted on its axis. "Delete it? Benedict, that' s evidence! That' s the only thing that proves what that monster did to our son!"

"Kendall isn' t a monster," he said, his voice turning hard. "She' s a twenty-year-old girl who made a mistake. A terrible mistake, yes. But we can' t ruin her entire life, her future, because of it."

"Her future?" Aliyah shrieked, her voice cracking. "What about Leo' s future? He was six years old! She murdered our son!"

The heat was becoming unbearable. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her lungs burned with every breath. She felt dizzy, disoriented. The man sitting next to her was a stranger.

"I need the password, Aliyah," he repeated, his voice low and menacing. "Don' t make this harder than it needs to be."

She shook her head, defiance surging through her grief. "Never."

His face twisted into a snarl. "You think you're strong, don't you? You always have."

He put the car in drive and peeled back onto the road, driving with a terrifying speed. Aliyah felt a wave of nausea. The heat was making the edges of her vision blur. She saw the sign for the Glenwood Assisted Living facility.

Her father' s home.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, her heart pounding against her ribs.

"You love your father, don' t you?" Benedict said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "A kind, gentle old man. With a very weak heart."

He pulled into the parking lot and took out his own phone. He made a call. "They' re here. Go now."

He turned his phone around, showing her a live video feed. It was from a camera pointed at the door to her father' s room. Two large, brutal-looking men in work overalls were using a crowbar to pry the door open.

"No," Aliyah breathed, her body going cold despite the suffocating heat. "Benedict, please. Don' t do this."

The door splintered open. The men stormed inside. The camera feed switched to an angle inside the room. Her father, Jerry, frail and confused, was sitting up in his bed. The men grabbed him.

"Give me the password, Aliyah," Benedict said softly, his voice a venomous whisper against the sound of her father' s panicked cry from the phone. "Or the next thing you' ll be planning is another funeral."

Tears of rage and helplessness streamed down her face. She looked from the monstrous man who was her husband to the image of her terrified father on the phone screen. She was trapped.

"The password," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. "It' s Leo' s birthday."