The driver wordlessly pulled out a manila folder from the glove box, dropping it onto my lap without breaking his focus on the road. My heart skipped as I glanced down at the thick file, its presence a heavy reminder of how deep we were getting into this mess. I flipped it open slowly, unsure if I wanted to know what lay inside. Medical reports, accident details, financial records… It was like holding a Pandora’s box of Levi’s and Troy’s lives, all intertwined by lies and buried truths.
“Is this legal?” I muttered, my voice betraying the unease creeping up my spine.
The driver cast me a sideways glance, his mouth forming a tight line. “It’s not as shady as you think,” he said, keeping his eyes forward, but I could tell he wasn’t giving me the full truth. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, and I knew he was done talking. I continued flipping through the documents, a growing knot forming in my stomach.
The more I read, the more disturbed I became. Troy’s accident report made my blood boil—he was drunk, that much I knew. But the rest? That was the shocker. My mother had been at the scene? She’d called the police? My heart pounded faster with every new revelation.
“Wait… why the hell was my mom there?” I asked, not really expecting an answer.
The driver didn’t even blink. “She was there to clean up the mess, Luke. Literally and figuratively. After all, it’s what she does best.”
I stared out the window, trying to make sense of it. “So she let Troy take the fall? And Levi… he was injured too, right?”
“That’s right. But she made sure all attention was diverted from Levi. Swept it under the rug.”
Of course, she did. My mother, always the puppet master, pulling strings while the rest of us danced to her twisted tune. I clenched my jaw, a surge of anger rising up in my chest. “She used Levi.”
The driver nodded. “To cover her tracks. I think it’s safe to say that wasn’t her first time.”
“Goddammit.” I slammed my fist down on the dashboard, the shock of the truth leaving me breathless. “How deep does this go?”
“Deep enough,” the driver replied, his voice flat and resigned.
We arrived at my parents’ estate, the high iron gates looming over us like silent sentinels. Dylan, who had been sitting quietly in the back, leaned forward and entered the code to open the gates. Nothing happened. He frowned, tried again. Still nothing.
“Changed the passcode,” I muttered, shaking my head. Typical. My father probably knew we were poking around.
“What now?” Dylan asked, frustration lacing his words.
I looked over the fence, my mind racing. “We could try climbing over, but if they know we’re here, this whole thing’s going to blow up in our faces.”
Before I could finish my thought, Dylan was already out of the car, scaling the fence with ease. He motioned for me to follow. I grumbled but hoisted myself up after him, landing with a soft thud on the other side.
“You’re lighter. Crawl through the basement window,” Dylan whispered, pointing to a small window near the ground.
I shot him an incredulous look. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously,” he smirked. “Your shoulders are narrow enough.”
“Jerk,” I muttered under my breath, squeezing through the window. Inside, the basement was dark and musty, the faint smell of mildew hanging in the air. I pulled out my phone and used it as a flashlight, scanning the room for anything useful. Boxes and old furniture were stacked high against the walls.
“You find anything?” Dylan’s voice echoed from outside.
“Hold on,” I whispered, my heart pounding in my ears. I spotted a box tucked away in the corner, its top slightly ajar. I moved toward it cautiously, my hand trembling as I lifted the lid. Inside were files—old, dusty, but important.
“Bingo,” I breathed, flipping through the folders. My pulse quickened as I pulled out one marked Sierra Castrilli. I froze. Dylan’s dad had worked with her?
I skimmed the file, my breath catching in my throat. “Dylan, get in here.”
Dylan slid through the window, landing beside me with a soft grunt. “What’s up?”
I handed him the file. “Look at this. Sierra’s bank account information. And look at the dates.”
Dylan’s eyes widened as he took the file from me, his fingers trembling slightly. “No way…”
“They match,” I confirmed. “My dad paid off Sierra.”
Dylan let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is bad, Luke. Really bad.”
“No shit,” I muttered, pacing the small basement. “She’s connected to all of it—Troy’s accident, Levi’s injury. And now this. My dad’s been pulling the strings.”
“We need more than this,” Dylan said, his voice urgent. “We need something that ties them all together. Something that’ll hold up in court.”
My mind raced as I thought about our next move. “McKellan’s,” I said suddenly. “We need the security footage from the night Troy was at the bar.”
McKellan’s was dead when we arrived, the dim lights casting long shadows across the empty stools and tables. Dawson, the bartender, greeted us with a raised brow. “What’s going on, guys? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Not quite,” Dylan said. “We need to see the security footage from the night Troy was here.”
Dawson hesitated, his eyes flicking between us. “You know that’s against policy, right?”
“Come on, Dawson. We wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” I pleaded.
Dawson sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Alright, but you didn’t get it from me.” He led us to the back, where a small monitor displayed the grainy footage from the security cameras.
Dylan leaned over the monitor, fast-forwarding through the night. My heart pounded as I watched the video, hoping for a miracle.
“There,” I said, pointing at the screen. “That’s Troy.”
We watched as Troy stumbled into the bar, oblivious to the storm brewing around him. Then, a figure caught my eye. Sierra.
“There she is,” I whispered, my stomach twisting into knots.
Dylan hit pause, zooming in on the screen. Sierra was sitting at the bar, right next to Troy. And she wasn’t just sitting there. She was watching him. Waiting.
“We’ve got her,” Dylan said, his voice thick with triumph. “This is our proof.”
I nodded, my heart racing. “This is it. We’re finally going to take her down.”