THE PERFECT REVENGE

eadable. "Thank you, Mr. Westwood. We'll talk more if necessary." He turned his focu

utching a tissue that was already reduced to shreds. Her dark hair, which usually cascaded in perfect waves, w

sured and professional, "I know this is diff

fly, her lips press

e events leading up to you

han seemed... fine. He was talking about work, a deal he was closing." She blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. "

sked gently. "Any unusual behavior, or anything yo

owing. "No," she said finally, shakin

what he ate or

table, as if the sight of it burned. "He ate the lamb," she sa

ok, his sharp eyes lifting to meet hers. "Did h

gers clenching the tissue

is pressed, though hi

ece the memory together. "I... I'm

ur husband have any medical conditions

quickly. "He was

stwood? Was there anyone who

eated, her voice carrying a hint of indignation. "Jonathan was a powerful man, Detective.

n hovering above the page. "Rivals," he

ghtened. "No," s

died her for a moment longer, then nodded. "Than

ng the back of the chair for support be

shoulders squared, his jaw set in a hard line. He sat

to a fresh page in his notebook. "You were si

odded onc

nything unusual be

muscle in his jaw twitched. "No. He was

rowing. "And during dinner? Was there any tens

August and then to Rose. "No," he said a

ands were on your father when you attempted CPR. Did you notice anyt

ly. "I noticed blood," he said b

r-how would you describe it?" Harri

was my father," he said tightly. "We didn't alwa

but didn't press further.

udly against the floor. He moved to stand by

ms wrapped tightly around her torso. When Harris called her

oftening slightly. "I understand this is very d

darting nervously around the

ttention to your fa

lling in loose waves over her shoulders. "Not re

d you notice anything unusual before he colla

gether. "No," she said softly. "It just.

what your father

to the table. "He had wine. And l

ier today? Did your father mention fee

fidgeting with the hem of her

but didn't break eye contact

was dismissed, retreating to a corner of

t in one by one: the chef, the butler

, his voice steady but cautious. "It was fre

poured the wine. It was from the bottle Mr. Westwood per

We set the table and cleared the dishes," one of them

ual before or during dinner?"

quickly, their faces pale.

staff could offer anything suspicious. Still,

orm of conflicting thoughts. He replayed the night over and over, s

grief. Victor's clenched fists and curt answers betrayed a simmering anger he hadn't

. Their unease felt out of place, as thou

felt like a barrier between them all. The house, usually a haven of luxury and

their voices low but tense. August's stomach chur

led web of secrets, lies, and motives. And August couldn't shake t

oom. The family and staff had been questioned, and yet, the unease in his expression lingered. He gestured to his

wear off, leaving him restless. He replayed the night in his mind-Jonathan's sudden collapse, the blood, the c

the room, "I need to know if there's anyone who should be here but isn't. Does anyone else

She glanced at Victor, who avoided her gaze, then at Rose, whose focus remained fixed on the

a timid demeanor, spoke hesitantly. "There's... Mis

er. "Miss Scott?" he repeated, h

usly at Aurora for confirmation. "Vaness

's a nurse," she clarified, her tone clipped. "Jonathan require

ting the defensive edge in Aurora's

Victor, who shrugged unhelpfully, then to Rose, who still ref

one saw her?" Harris pressed

ay," she said. "She usually checks in during the aft

her tone curt. "She gave Jonathan

. "So, to be clear, Miss Scott was in this

ra said, her

regular schedule

most afternoons. Sometimes she stays longer, depending

s asked, his gaze shi

o crack. "I don't know," she said finally. "I assumed she

d again. "Did you see Mis

ickly. "No, sir. But I wasn

. "Tell me about her," he said, his tone demanding but ca

commended. Jonathan hired her about a year ago when his doctor suggested he needed more regu

with your husband?" Ha

th irritation. "Professi

Harris pressed, his t

lips thinn

sted he wasn't entirely convinced. "We'll need to

ne number is in the household re

ments to locate Vanessa Scott. The room grew heavier with

mention of Vanessa. He hadn't thought of her in the cha

nding seamlessly into the background of their lives. She wasn't a stranger, yet she wasn't fami

swirling, August couldn't ignore the strange

th Jonathan, her medical bag perched neatly on a side table. He'd passed by the open door, ca

't quite reach her eyes. August had nodded back, distracted by

eraction felt loaded

ng to do with it?" Rose's voic

ting on the arm of a chair, her arms wrapped

out?" he asked, his tone

rvously around the room. "She was he

g," August said firmly, tho

don't think it's suspicious? She's always so... p

August snapped. "She d

the words, he wasn't

th a phone in hand, his expression grim. He handed it to Ha

a moment, his voice steady. He

rp. "She's at her apartment. She claims she left this hous

idn't she answer when w

n't hear her phone

uttered, earning a shar

inued. He turned his attention to August. "Do you

the front door, couldn't remember the sound of her car pulling

mitted finally. "I was

g a note. "We'll see

on settle in his chest. The image of Vanessa-calm, composed, me

th came out, it would change everything he thoug