Then, I looked at the floor. Right beneath the heavy mahogany desk was a loose floorboard—one that my father had intentionally designed as a hidden safe when he built the house. Bruno didn’t know the trick to opening it; he thought it was just an old, creaky board. But I knew. I pressed the knot on the adjacent plank, and the board popped up with a soft click.
Inside lay a thick, manila envelope.
My hands trembled as I pulled it out. Written on the front in bold, black marker was a single word: PROPOSAL.
I opened it, and my breath hitched. It was all there.
The first document was a Quitclaim Deed. It legally transferred 100% of the ownership of our property from “Bruno and Valerie Miller” to “The C&B Legacy Trust”—a trust where the sole beneficiaries were listed as Bruno Miller and Chloe Vance.
The second document was even worse. It was a pre-drafted divorce petition, citing “irreconcilable differences” and “emotional instability and financial misconduct on the part of the wife.” Appended to the back were printed photographs of me—taken covertly through the windows of our own home—holding the cash envelopes, scrubbing the floors, and placing the money under the bed. There were log sheets detailing the dates and times I had “stolen” the cleaning money.
But it was the third document that made my blood run entirely cold.
It was a life insurance policy. A new one, taken out just two months ago in my name. The policy amount was two million dollars. The beneficiary? Bruno Miller. And attached to the policy application was a forged medical assessment stating that I suffered from a severe, undiagnosed chronic heart condition that put me at high risk for sudden cardiac arrest.
He wasn’t just planning to divorce me and take my house.
He was planning for me to die.
