Chapter 8 - The Interrogation
Rosa’s intuition about the jasmine oil proved to be terrifyingly accurate.
Later that evening, Sterling returned unexpectedly from the hospital, his face etched with fury. He had Grace’s security detail with him, two burly, serious men who took up position at the terrace doors.
"Rosa, we need to talk. Now," Sterling said, his voice tight with controlled anger.
Rosa met him in the library. On the desk lay the small wooden box containing the vial of amber liquid.
"My security team swept your room while we were at the hospital," Sterling explained, pointing to the box. "They found this. I had my chemist analyze the contents. It’s not jasmine oil, Rosa. It’s a potent neurotoxin, derived from a rare plant. If ingested, even a few drops would cause paralysis, respiratory failure, and death. It’s virtually undetectable."
Rosa stared at the box, her blood running cold. The realization hit her with brutal force: Eleanor had tried to murder her, disguised as a thoughtful gift.
"She... she gave it to me herself," Rosa whispered, the shock making her knees weak. "She told me to use it to 'clear my mind'."
"It was a murder attempt," Sterling said, his voice vibrating with rage. "She’s gone too far this time. This isn't just about property or legacy; this is premeditated murder. The P.I. she hired must have failed to find anything on you, so she decided to take matters into her own hands."
"Sterling, we have to go to the police," Rosa urged, the fear finally giving way to a desire for justice.
"The police are in her pocket in this town," Sterling said bitterly. "And even if they weren't, it would be your word against hers. There was no note, nothing to tie her directly to the vial. She’s too smart for that. But I have enough now. I have the estate sale finalized; the papers are being signed tomorrow. We’re leaving. Tonight."
"Tonight?" Rosa asked, startled.
"Yes. I’ve chartered a private jet. I’m taking Grace and the babies straight to a clinic in Switzerland I trust implicitly, where they will be safe and receive the best possible care. The security detail will ensure she never gets near them again. I’ve also arranged for you to be flown to a safe house in London, where you will be completely off the grid, until my lawyers can dismantle her life and freeze every asset she has left."
"But... my life is here," Rosa stammered, overwhelmed by the sudden upheaval.
"Your life here is over, Rosa, unless you want it to end at the hands of my mother," Sterling said, his voice firm but kind. "I cannot allow you to stay. You saved Grace’s life; you are family to us now. I will not let you become another casualty of her madness."
Rosa knew he was right. The attempted poisoning was the final straw. Eleanor Lancaster had declared war to the death, and Rosa, despite her courage, was outmatched.
The next few hours were a blur of activity. Rosa quickly packed a small bag, taking only the essentials. She left the majority of her belongings behind, knowing they were tainted by Eleanor’s presence. Sterling’s security team thoroughly swept her room, ensuring no listening devices or tracking devices were left behind.
At midnight, they met at the private airstrip on the edge of the estate. Grace was brought directly from the hospital in an ambulance, looking frail but determined, hooked up to portable monitors. The quins were in specialized incubators, their tiny lives hanging in the balance, but shielded by a team of neonatal specialists.
Sterling embraced Rosa before they boarded the jet. "Thank you, Rosa. For everything. We wouldn't be here without you. You will be safe in London. My lawyers will contact you within a week. We’ll make her pay for everything."
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"Take care of them, Sterling," Rosa said, tears welling in her eyes as she hugged him. "And take care of yourself."
As the private jet taxied down the runway and lifted into the night sky, carrying the fragile Lancaster family away from the clutches of their matriarch, Rosa watched from the tarmac. She was leaving her home, her garden, her life. But as another private jet, this one destined for London, touched down on the runway beside her, she realized she was also leaving behind the cage. The real fall had indeed happened, but it was Eleanor Lancaster who was about to hit the ground.
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