Chapter 1: The Woman in the Red Dress
"Your father will believe me before he believes you. So tonight, you're going to lose everything.""
Vanessa whispered the words so softly that Ethan almost thought he had imagined them.
Then she grabbed the front of her red dress with both hands and tore it.
The sound of ripping fabric echoed through the dining room.
Ethan stood frozen beside the mahogany table, staring at her. On the table sat a thick stack of cash, a sealed white envelope, and a glass of untouched wine. The overhead chandelier illuminated everything, including the small black camera mounted in the ceiling corner.
Vanessa knew the camera was there.
She also knew exactly where it was pointing.
"Are you insane?"" Ethan asked.
Vanessa didn't answer immediately. She dragged her fingernails across her own forearm, leaving three angry red marks. Then she knocked over the wineglass.
It shattered against the marble floor.
"Help!"" she screamed.
Ethan took a step backward.
"What are you doing?""
Vanessa stumbled toward the doorway, clutching her torn dress against her chest.
"Don't come near me!""
"I haven't touched you!""
She raised her voice even higher.
"Marcus! Marcus, help me!""
Footsteps thundered from upstairs.
Ethan looked toward the staircase.
His father was home.
And Vanessa had just made sure he would arrive at the worst possible moment.
Marcus Hale appeared in the doorway wearing his charcoal business suit, his tie loosened and his phone still in his hand.
He looked at Vanessa first.
Then at the broken glass.
Then at his son.
"What happened?""
Vanessa rushed toward him.
"Your son attacked me!""
Marcus's expression changed instantly.
"What?""
"He went crazy! He started shouting about the money, and when I told him I wouldn't give him anything, he grabbed me!""
Ethan stared at her.
"That's a lie.""
Vanessa clung to Marcus's arm.
"Look at my dress!""
Marcus looked at the torn fabric.
His jaw tightened.
"Ethan, what did you do?""
"Nothing! She tore it herself!""
Vanessa made a frightened sound and buried her face against Marcus's shoulder.
"Please don't let him near me.""
Ethan looked at his father.
"You're seriously going to believe her?""
Marcus moved between them.
"Watch your mouth.""
"Dad, listen to me.""
"I said watch your mouth!""
Ethan tried to approach him, but Marcus shoved him backward.
"Stay away from her!""
"She staged this!""
Vanessa peeked over Marcus's shoulder.
For half a second, her frightened expression disappeared.
A tiny smile touched the corner of her mouth.
Ethan saw it.
He pointed at her.
"Look at her face! She's enjoying this!""
"Enough!"" Marcus shouted.
Then he punched his son.
Once.
Hard.
Ethan staggered sideways, crashing into a dining chair. The chair scraped across the marble floor, and he caught himself against the edge of the table.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Ethan slowly touched his split lip.
He looked at the blood on his fingers.
Then he looked at his father.
"Dad," he whispered.
"You just hit me.""
Marcus's breathing was heavy.
"You shouldn't have touched her.""
"I didn't!""
Vanessa began crying again.
Marcus turned toward her.
"Go upstairs. I'll handle this.""
Vanessa shook her head.
"I'm scared.""
"You're safe. Go.""
She hesitated before walking toward the staircase, carefully keeping her torn dress together.
But before disappearing, she glanced at Ethan again.
That smile returned.
Ethan's stomach tightened.
Something was terribly wrong.
He looked at the table.
The money.
The envelope.
The broken wineglass.
And then, almost instinctively, he looked at the ceiling corner.
The camera.
A small green light blinked.
Ethan suddenly remembered something.
Three weeks earlier, his father had installed a security system throughout the house after someone attempted to break into the study.
Every camera recorded continuously.
And unlike the old system, this one uploaded footage to a secure server.
Ethan had helped Marcus install the software.
He knew exactly how it worked.
"Dad," he said.
Marcus turned impatiently.
"What now?""
"Check the camera.""
Marcus frowned.
"What camera?""
"The one above the dining table.""
Vanessa stopped halfway up the staircase.
Ethan noticed.
"Everything happened right there," he continued.
"You can watch the recording.""
Marcus looked toward the ceiling.
The tiny green light blinked again.
For the first time, uncertainty crossed his face.
"Fine," he said.
"Let's see it.""
He walked toward the security console mounted inside the cabinet near the hallway.
Vanessa immediately hurried back down.
"Marcus, don't.""
Marcus ignored her.
"Ethan says there's footage. We'll settle this right now.""
"There's no need.""
"Why not?""
Vanessa reached for his arm.
"Because I don't want to relive it!""
Marcus pulled away and opened the security application.
A grid of camera feeds appeared on the screen.
He selected the dining room recording.
The timestamp showed 8:42 p.m.
He dragged the playback bar backward.
Ethan stood perfectly still.
Vanessa's breathing became uneven.
Marcus pressed play.
The screen showed Vanessa standing beside the money.
It showed Ethan entering the room.
It showed her looking directly toward the ceiling camera.
Then the footage continued.
Vanessa grabbed the front of her dress.
Marcus leaned closer.
On the screen, his wife tore the fabric with her own hands.
Ethan's mouth fell open.
Marcus stopped breathing.
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And then Vanessa grabbed his wrist.
"Don't play that video!""
