Part 3The Dangerous Mind Of The Missing Blackwood Heiress

The next morning, Sebastian was already in the living room when I came down. He was staring at his phone, his jaw set. When he saw me, he flipped the device facedown and stood up.

"Breakfast is on the sideboard," he said curtly.

I could feel him watching me. I watched him right back.

He took the late shift last night. The patrol frequency changed to twenty-minute intervals. They’re rotating guards.

He’s the only one with real situational awareness. He’ll be the hardest to neutralize.

I’d have to wait until he’s in deep REM sleep. It’s the only way to ensure a clean finish.

Sebastian’s expression shifted—a flash of something like pain or terror—but he said nothing. I narrowed my eyes. Something was definitely off with this family, but I wasn't here to solve their psychological puzzles.

After breakfast, I went for a walk in the gardens. I sensed my mother wanting to follow me, but she stopped at the patio door, her hand hovering over the handle.

The sun was bright, the roses in full, violent bloom. I walked to the farthest corner of the estate, testing the density of the soil with my heel and eyeing the height of the perimeter wall.

"Do you like my roses, Sloane?"

Serena was standing behind me. She had changed into a sundress, her hair loose, looking every bit the innocent garden nymph. She reached out to stroke a petal.

"I planted all of these. My parents gave me this garden as a gift." Her voice dropped, the sweetness vanishing. "See that corner over there? I picked it because it’s the most secluded spot on the property. If I ever needed to hide something... no one would ever find it."

She looked at me, her eyes burning with a sudden, sharp malice. "Take the hint and get out. This is my house. You can't just swoop in and take it."

I looked at her. Was she actually trying to threaten me?

A practiced intimidation script. She’s used this before. People like her usually escalate to physical action once their words fail. I need a contingency plan.

Maybe I can bait her into an attack. Self-defense is much easier to justify in court.

"What are you two talking about?"

My mother’s voice cut through the air. She looked frantic, rushing toward us and grabbing Serena by the wrist.

"Mom! You scared me," Serena chirped, her mask snapping back into place instantly. "I was just showing Sloane the roses."

"What did you just say to her?" My mother’s voice was shaking. "Tell me exactly what you said!"

Serena’s eyes flickered with panic. "Mom, you’re overreacting. I was just—"

The pivot is seamless. A born con artist. But she’s low-tier; she only knows how to manipulate through victimhood. It works on family, but it wouldn't last a day in the real world.

My mother stared at Serena as if she were seeing a stranger for the first time. I didn't stick around for the fallout. I turned my back on them and walked back to the house.

Later that afternoon, it happened.

I was walking down the second-floor gallery. Serena was waiting by the stairs. As I approached, she took a dramatic step back, let out a piercing scream, and threw herself toward the edge of the staircase.

It was a blatant staged fall. She even managed to shriek, "Sloane, why did you push me—" mid-air.

But she didn't hit the stairs.

Sebastian had been standing at the other end of the hall. He moved like a sprinter, catching her by the arm and yanking her back just before she went over the edge.