Chapter 3 - THE MEDICINE THAT WAS NEVER PRESCRIBED
The laboratory report arrived the following afternoon.
Victor read it twice.
Then a third time.
The recovered capsules contained a powerful sedating medication that had not been prescribed to Sylvia.
Dr. Ruiz explained that the drug could worsen confusion, suppress alertness, and complicate recovery in a medically vulnerable patient.
The evidence did not establish who had supplied it.
But it established that Sylvia had been receiving something she should not have been given.
Victor placed the report on the table.
“Could it have caused another stroke?”
Dr. Ruiz answered carefully.
“We can't conclude that. But it may have contributed to her deterioration. We need to review the full medical timeline.”
Victor nodded.
He wanted certainty.
Instead, he was learning how much damage could hide behind assumptions.
Sylvia had been transferred to a private rehabilitation wing under independent medical supervision.
Her first night there, she slept peacefully.
The next morning, she managed to move two fingers on her right hand.
Victor watched as though witnessing a miracle.
Dr. Ruiz smiled.
“It's encouraging. Recovery will take time.”
Victor looked at Marta.
She stood near the doorway, hands clasped.
“You helped keep her alive,” he said.
Marta shook her head.
“I helped her stay comfortable. I did what I could.”
“You did more than I did.”
She said nothing.
He didn't ask her to contradict him.
Rebecca arrived with another discovery.
“We checked the pharmacy invoices.”
Victor looked up.
“And?”
“Some prescriptions were purchased through a private medical supplier.”
“Whose account?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“A company called Aster Health Consulting.”
Victor frowned.
He knew the name.
Audrey had introduced Aster as a boutique medical-management service.
She said they specialized in discreet care for wealthy families.
“Who owns it?” he asked.
Rebecca slid a document across the desk.
The listed director was Gerald Bell.
Victor stared.
His estate manager.
The man who had dismissed Marta's warnings.
Rebecca continued.
“Aster receives monthly payments from your household accounts.”
“How much?”
“Forty-eight thousand dollars.”
Victor looked up sharply.
“Every month?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Medical coordination, nursing management, and specialist consultation.”
Victor stared.
Audrey had fired the night nurses.
Yet his household was still paying for nursing management.
Rebecca placed another document on the table.
“And there's more.”
Victor looked down.
Aster had been incorporated eight months earlier.
Two months before Sylvia's stroke.
That evening, Victor met his head of security, Dominic Hale.
Dominic had served him for eleven years.
He was one of the few men who could enter Victor's office without knocking.
“I want Gerald Bell watched,” Victor said.
Dominic nodded.
“Understood.”
“No threats. No confrontations.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow.
Victor noticed.
“This goes through the authorities.”
“That's new.”
Victor looked at him.
“My mother nearly died while I was busy frightening everyone around me.”
Dominic said nothing.
Victor continued.
“Fear didn't protect her. It protected the people hurting her.”
Audrey returned to the estate at seven.
Victor was waiting in the library.
He had changed into a charcoal suit.
The engagement ring he'd given her glittered beneath the chandelier.
“Victor!”
She smiled and hurried toward him.
He stepped aside before she could embrace him.
Her smile faltered.
“What's wrong?”
“Sit down.”
She laughed.
“Darling, you're frightening me.”
“Sit.”
She obeyed.
Victor remained standing.
“My mother is in the hospital.”
Audrey's expression changed.
“What?”
“She became unwell.”
Audrey pressed a hand to her chest.
“Oh my God. Why didn't anyone call me?”
Victor watched her.
“Where did you get her medication?”
She blinked.
“What?”
“The capsules you gave her yesterday.”
Audrey went still.
Then smiled nervously.
“From her prescription organizer.”
“Who filled it?”
“Gerald coordinated everything.”
Victor nodded.
“Did you check what you were giving her?”
“Of course.”
“What was the medication called?”
Silence.
Audrey looked toward the door.
Victor spoke quietly.
“Don't guess.”
Her face hardened.
“Why are you interrogating me?”
“Because the capsules weren't prescribed.”
Audrey stared.
Then whispered:
“That isn't possible.”
Victor placed the laboratory report on the table.
She looked at it.
Her hands began trembling.
For one moment, he thought she might confess.
Instead, she stood.
“Someone is trying to frame me.”
Victor didn't move.
“Who?”
Audrey swallowed.
Then said:
“The maid.”
Victor stared.
“Marta?”
Audrey nodded rapidly.
“She hates me. She's been stealing medication. I caught her.”
Victor felt a terrible calm.
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't want to upset you.”
Victor looked at her.
It was the same excuse she had used for everything.
He opened a folder.
Inside was a photograph of Marta's notebook.
And beside it, a still image from the surveillance recording.
Audrey's face went white.
Victor said:
“I watched you pour water onto the floor while my mother begged for a drink.”
Audrey staggered backward.
He continued.
“I watched you hurt her.”
She stared at him.
Then whispered:
“You were supposed to be in Chicago.”
Victor's voice was almost gentle.
May you like
“I know.”
And for the first time, Audrey understood that the man she intended to deceive had seen the person she truly was.
