Three days later, while Aria slept peacefully in her hospital room beneath the soft glow of humming monitors, Ethan stood in the hallway, speaking in low, controlled tones with two of his most trusted private investigators. Their expressions were grim, yet there was a quiet satisfaction in their eyes.
“We got them,” the lead investigator said, handing over a thick folder. “Ballistics match the rifle found in Brandon’s rental car to the bullet that hit Aria. Tamara acted as the spotter...she fed him the exact location and timing from a concealed position near the tree line. Phone records, GPS data, and encrypted messages confirm everything. They planned it together. Brandon pulled the trigger.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened as he flipped through the file, his eyes darkening with cold fury. “Arres
