After pulling the trigger, Mr. Vincent turned to his bodyguards and said coldly, "Clean up this mess." Without hesitation, they lifted Mr. Liam's lifeless body and began wiping the blood from the floor. I was just grateful no other employees were in the building at the time.
But before we could even process what had just happened, Mr. Vincent turned toward us and said, "You three—come with me."
A chill ran down our spines. My voice shook as I stammered, "S-Sir, please… we didn't do anything. I was only waiting here because you were visiting. I'm his secretary—it was my duty. These two… they're just my friends. They were just with me, that's all."
He didn't reply—just glared at us coldly, then whispered something to his assistant and walked off.
His assistant turned to us and calmly said, "Don't worry. He won't harm you. In fact, he needs you—as witnesses. You saw everything, and that's exactly what he wants."
We let out a shaky breath of relief and quietly followed them, still in disbelief.
As we reached the entrance, the guard's expression said it all—he had already seen the body. He didn't look surprised. Of course he wasn't. With Mr. Vincent, taking a life was probably as casual as breathing. And with the kind of power he held, no one dared to question it. Everyone knew the truth anyway—this company didn't really belong to Mr. Liam. It was Mr. Vincent's from the beginning.
He turned to the guard and gave his orders in that calm but chilling tone.
"When the employees start arriving, tell them to go home. The office will remain closed for a few days. We'll inform them about further updates. Once everyone's gone—lock the building. Completely."
The guard nodded without a single word of protest.
We exchanged glances, still trying to keep up with how drastically our lives had shifted in just a few hours.
We sat quietly in the backseat of one of the black cars, tense and silent. Mr. Vincent was in another vehicle ahead of us. None of us had any idea where they were taking us—we were just praying to come back alive.
The windows were tinted, pitch black. We couldn't see a single thing outside. No streets, no signs, no landmarks. Just darkness and reflection. It felt like we were being driven into the unknown.
After what felt like hours, the car finally slowed and came to a stop.
The door opened with a soft click, and we hesitantly stepped out… only to freeze.
In front of us stood a mansion.
Not just a big house—no. This was a palace. A breathtaking, extravagant, magazine-cover type of mansion. Its towering pillars, golden details, marble steps, and perfectly sculpted garden—it didn't even feel real. Our eyes widened in disbelief, jaws practically on the floor.
We were so lost staring at it that we forgot to breathe.
Then a bodyguard lightly tapped my shoulder, snapping us out of our trance. We nodded quickly and began following them inside, still struggling to process the fact that a place like this actually existed. It felt like we'd stepped into a dream—or someone else's life entirely.
As we stepped inside the grand mansion, the guards led us to the living room. The space was massive—high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and elegant furniture that screamed money and power.
Seated gracefully on one of the velvet sofas was a woman. She looked absolutely stunning—elegant, well-dressed, and far too beautiful to be real. Though clearly older than us, she had this timeless beauty that made it hard to look away.
But the real shock came when Mr. Vincent entered.
The moment her eyes landed on him, she got up and rushed to hug him tightly. Our jaws dropped. Who on earth was bold enough to hug Mr. Vincent like that? No one even dared meet his eyes without trembling—yet she ran to him like a little girl seeing her dad after ages.
We were too stunned to react.
That's when she turned her gaze toward us. Her eyes, just as sharp as her beauty, studied us curiously.
"Dad, who are these girls?" she asked, her voice soft but clear.
Dad?! It finally clicked.
She was Mr. Liam's wife.
The woman he cheated on.
The one he didn't deserve.
The one who literally could have had anyone in the world… yet chose him.
I was so lost in that thought that I barely heard Mr. Vincent respond.
"You'll know everything in a moment," he said calmly. "Let's sit down first and talk properly."
As they both sat down on the main sofa in the center, Mr. Vincent's assistant subtly gestured for us to take the side sofas. We quietly followed her signal, nerves buzzing in our stomachs as we took our seats.
Mr. Vincent finally broke the silence.
"How have you been, my daughter? It's been ten years since I last saw you. You've grown so much."
She smiled warmly. "I've been good, Dad. What about you? Did you finish the work you went for? And—don't tell me—you skipped your meals again?"
He chuckled. "No, my highness. I didn't miss a single meal."
My highness?! That's what he called her?
His laugh echoed through the room—and honestly, it sent a chill down our spines. Just a few hours ago, we saw this man shoot someone point-blank, and now here he was…laughing. Smiling. Like nothing ever happened.
Was he... a psycho?
A dangerously calm one?
I was shaken out of my thoughts when she suddenly said, "Let me call Liam. He should know you're back."
That's when Mr. Vincent's smile dropped instantly.
"You don't need to," he said sharply.
She looked confused. "Why not? He should be here too."
He paused for a moment, then looked her straight in the eye.
"I have something to confess."
He glanced toward us.
"And I brought witnesses."
Her brows furrowed as she turned to look at us again—almost like she had completely forgotten we were even sitting there.
"Dad... what happened?" she asked, her voice cautious, her smile slowly fading.
Mr. Vincent leaned back slightly, his tone growing heavier.
"After arriving at the airport—before coming here—I went straight to Liam's office," he said.
She blinked. "You went to see Liam first?"
He nodded. "Yes… and when I got there, I saw him..."
She narrowed her eyes, confused. "Saw him… doing what?"
His jaw clenched slightly. "I saw him making out with another woman."
Her body tensed. "You're lying."
"I'm not," he replied firmly. "And I'm not the only one who saw it—" he motioned toward us— "they were there too. They witnessed everything."
She shook her head in disbelief, standing up. "No. No, that can't be true. Liam would never—he promised he would never—how could he…"
Mr. Vincent stood now too, his voice deeper. "He broke that promise. So I—"
"You did what?" she screamed, cutting him off before he could finish.
"I shot him," he said without flinching, "because he dared to betray not just you, but the trust you begged me to have in him."
Silence.
Tears spilled down her face. Her knees gave out and she dropped to the floor.
"You're lying…" she whispered, her voice cracking. "You've always hated him. You just wanted an excuse to kill him. That's what this is."
Mr. Vincent stepped forward, but she pushed herself back.
"Bringing some random people to act as your witnesses won't make your lies true, Dad!"