Chapter 6 - The Unraveling Mask
Vincent caught up to her on the grand stone terrace overlooking the dark expanse of Lake Michigan.
The wind off the water was fierce, whipping Anna’s midnight-blue dress around her legs. Julian was nowhere in sight—he had intentionally remained inside to hold back the security guards, giving them this moment.
"Anna!" Vincent called out, his voice raw.
She stopped near the balustrade, not turning around. "You are persistent, Vincent. In the old days, I would have called it romantic. Now, it just smells like desperation."
Vincent pulled the folded document from his coat and held it out, his hand shaking. "I know."
Anna turned slowly, her expression impassive. "You know what?"
"Leo," Vincent whispered, choking back a sob. "I had the DNA tested. He’s mine, Anna. He’s our son."
Anna’s eyes didn't widen. She didn't flinch. A bitter, cold smirk played at the corner of her lips. "Of course he is. Did you honestly think I conceived him with someone else while lying in an intensive care burn unit in Zurich?"
"Why did you hide him from me?!" Vincent’s agony finally ruptured. "Why did you let me believe my child was dead?! I went to that graveyard every Sunday! I brought flowers to an empty stone for three years! I lost my mind, Anna!"
"You didn't lose your mind!" Anna took three sharp, furious steps toward him, pointing a manicured finger directly at his chest. "You lost your convenience! You buried an empty box, wiped away a few tears, and within six months, Sophia Carter was living in our summer villa! She was wearing my mother’s pearls! She was sleeping in the bed we shared!"
Vincent recoiled as if struck by lightning. "I never gave her your mother’s pearls—"
"I had investigators in Chicago the entire time I was learning how to walk again!" Anna screamed into the wind, the aristocratic composure completely shattering, revealing the wounded, betrayed woman beneath. "While skin was being sliced from my thighs to patch my charred ribs, I watched photos of you escorting her to galas! You gave her the life that belonged to me and my son!"
"I thought you were dead!" Vincent dropped to his knees on the damp terrace stone, catching the hem of her gown, his head bowed in absolute repentance. "If I had known you were breathing, I would have torn the world apart to find you! I took Sophia out because I was a fool! A blind, arrogant fool who thought he was invincible! I thought I had time to go back for you!"
"There was no time!" Anna snarled, grabbing his lapels and pulling him up so his eyes met hers. Her face was inches from his, tears of pure hatred glistening on her eyelashes. "Do you want to know what happened after you left with your precious Sophia?"
Vincent’s breath hitched in his throat.
"The emergency hatch didn't jam by accident," Anna whispered, every word a poisoned dart. "When you ran forward to help Sophia out of her seat, she deliberately kicked her heavy carry-on bag into the track of the slide. Then, she pulled the manual latch release from the exterior after you jumped down, sealing the cabin shut behind her."
Vincent froze. The color drained completely from his face. "What... what did you say?"
"Sophia didn't just escape," Anna said, her voice dropping into a terrifyingly steady whisper. "She locked the door from the outside, Vincent. She saw me trapped beneath the luggage rack. She looked me dead in the eye through the hatch window... and she engaged the manual emergency deadbolt."
The world seemed to stop spinning. The roar of the wind vanished.
"She... she locked you in?" Vincent whispered, horror crawling through his veins like battery acid.
"She wanted me dead," Anna said coldly, letting go of his lapels and stepping back. "She knew that as long as I lived, carrying your heir, she would always be your second choice. So she ensured that there would be no one left for you to return to."
Anna reached into her small evening purse, pulled out a thumb drive, and dropped it onto Vincent’s chest. He caught it instinctively.
"Julian’s salvage team recovered the fuselage's secondary exterior black box, the one the NTSB missed because Sophia’s father paid off the lead investigator," Anna said, her eyes chillingly clear. "It has the exterior camera footage of the tarmac. Watch it, Vincent. Watch your first love seal your pregnant wife into a furnace."
She turned toward the terrace steps, where Julian Sterling was now waiting, holding her wool coat.
"Anna, wait," Vincent begged, his voice barely a rasp.
Anna stopped, glancing over her shoulder one last time.
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"I don't want your apologies, Vincent. I don't want your tears. I came back to Chicago for one reason only: to take everything Sophia Carter values, and then watch you tear each other apart."
***
