Michael coughed, trembling, and handed her a small black USB drive.
“Everything’s here,” he said. “Don’t trust anyone. Not even my family.”
Before she could respond, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed in his arms.
This time, she didn’t wait. She screamed for help—but no one came. The mansion, once majestic, now felt dark and empty.
Then the front door creaked open. A shadow appeared.
“I warned you, cleaning lady,” a cold voice said. “You should have stayed invisible.”
Katherina’s blood ran cold. The voice belonged to Mr. Henson—Michael’s closest associate, the same man she’d seen beside him in board meetings.
“You have something that doesn’t belong to you,” he said, stepping closer.
She clutched the USB tightly. “Michael gave it to me. It’s proof.”
Henson sneered. “And now he’s unconscious. Convenient, isn’t it?”
She backed away, eyes darting toward the staircase. If she could reach the study, maybe she could lock herself in and call for help.
“You think you’re special because you saved him?” Henson hissed. “You’re just a cleaner. A nobody.”
“I may be a cleaner,” she said, voice steady, “but I’m not stupid. I know what you did.”
Henson’s smile faded. “Then you know what happens to people who know too much.”
