In her chambers, Veronica wept quietly. Part of her wondered if she'd been too harsh, if she should have at least listened to Aldric's protestations.
But the evidence was overwhelming. And in her heart, she couldn't deny the small voice that whispered: 'Maybe I'm just not enough anymore. Maybe he needed someone younger, more exciting, less worn down by years of noble obligations.'
A soft knock interrupted her tears.
"Mother?"
Sofia entered, concern etched on her face. "I heard shouting. Are you alright?"
Veronica quickly wiped her eyes. "It's nothing, dear. Just a disagreement with your father."
Sofia closed the door and sat beside her mother on the bed. "It didn't sound like nothing. Mother... if something's wrong, you can tell me."
Veronica looked at her daughter, so young, so naive to the cruelties of marriage and betrayal. She shouldn't burden Sofia with this and yet...
"Your father has been unfaithful," she heard herself say. "I have proof."
Sofia's expression shifted through shock, horror, and finally something that looked almost like understanding. "Are you certain?"
"I hired an investigator. The evidence is... undeniable."
"Oh, Mother." Sofia embraced her, and Veronica allowed herself to lean into her daughter's comfort. "I'm so sorry. What will you do?"
"I don't know. I just... I feel so foolish. Twenty-three years, and I never suspected."
"You're not foolish," Sofia said firmly. "Father is the one who betrayed your trust. This is his failure, not yours."
They sat together in silence for several minutes before Sofia spoke again. "Mother, I should tell you something. I didn't want to say anything before, because I wasn't sure, but..."
"What is it?"
"Last week, I saw Father in the middle district with a woman. I didn't recognize her, but they seemed... close." Sofia's voice was gentle, almost apologetic. "I convinced myself it was business-related, that I'd misunderstood what I saw. But now..."
Veronica felt her heart break all over again. Even her own daughter had witnessed Aldric's betrayal.
"Thank you for telling me," she said, trying to fight back her tears. "At least now I know I'm not imagining things."
"You're not imagining anything," Sofia assured her. "And whatever you decide to do, I support you completely."
After Sofia left, Veronica lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She didn't know that the investigator was a demon in disguise, that the photographs were magical fabrications, that the woman called Vivienne was one of Alfred's transformed maids, or that her own daughter was an active participant in orchestrating this deception.
She only knew that her marriage was shattered, her trust was destroyed, and her family was falling apart.
…
The mansion was quiet at two in the morning.
Sofia moved through the darkened corridors with practiced stealth, her footsteps silent on the marble floors. She'd learned years ago which floorboards creaked, which doors had noisy hinges, and which routes through the house allowed someone to move unseen.
Her destination was Zach's private study, a room her brother guarded jealously, filled with documents he believed no one else could access. He'd installed an expensive lock imported from the dwarven kingdoms, convinced it made the room impregnable.
Sofia pulled a thin piece of metal from her sleeve and knelt before the lock. She'd taught herself to pick locks at fourteen, stealing into the library to read books deemed "inappropriate for young ladies." Over the years, she'd refined the skill, and this particular lock had yielded to her efforts three times already.
The mechanism clicked softly. Sofia eased the door open and slipped inside.
Moonlight streamed through the window, providing just enough illumination to work by. She moved to Zach's desk, careful not to disturb anything that might indicate someone had been here.
The drawer on the right side, the one with the false bottom, was her target tonight.
Zach thought he was clever, hiding his most sensitive documents beneath a layer of mundane guild paperwork. But Sofia had discovered the compartment weeks ago, during one of her earlier reconnaissance missions.
She removed the false bottom and began sorting through the contents.
Contracts with questionable clauses. Correspondence with merchants who dealt in illegal goods. Financial records showing funds diverted from the guild's coffers into Zach's personal accounts.
And then, in a leather folder bound with string, she found what she'd been searching for.
The names.
Dozens of them, written in Zach's own hand. Young women, most from the outer district. Beside each name was a date and a payment amount, hush money, she realized, paid to families to keep them silent about their daughters' "accidents" or "disappearances."
Sofia's hands remained steady as she photographed each page with the magical recording crystal Claire had provided.
One name near the bottom made her pause: 'Elena. Refugee. No family. 100 gold paid for "disposal." Date: Three months ago.'
Sofia felt nothing, no horror, no sympathy, no moral outrage. The vampire charm had stripped away such inconvenient emotions, leaving only cold pragmatism.
Or perhaps those feelings had never existed in her to begin with. She genuinely couldn't tell anymore, and she didn't particularly care.
Elena's death was useful information, nothing more, another piece of evidence to destroy her brother.
She continued photographing documents, working methodically through the folder.
Letters from guild members expressing concern about Zach's behavior, which he'd kept rather than destroyed, typical arrogance.
Internal memos discussing how to handle "complaints" from victims' families. Even a few contracts with the city guard, paying them to overlook certain incidents.
Zach had been meticulous in his record-keeping, probably believing these documents were safely hidden. He'd documented his own crimes with administrative precision.
'Fool,' Sofia thought. 'You always did love paperwork more than people.'
After photographing everything in the hidden compartment, she carefully replaced the documents exactly as she'd found them.
The false bottom slid back into place, the drawer closed without sound, and she moved to Zach's personal correspondence.
The letters here were less damning but still useful. Complaints to their father about guild members who "lacked loyalty."
Requests for additional funding that their father had denied. Even a few letters to their uncle, the King, asking for political favors.
Sofia photographed these as well. Not because they were particularly criminal, but because they established patterns. They showed Zach's relationships, his dependencies, his weaknesses.
Knowledge was power, and Sofia was accumulating vast amounts of both.
A sound in the corridor made her freeze.
Sofia's mind raced through possibilities. Zach shouldn't be home, he'd mentioned staying at the guild tonight to finish paperwork.
Their father was in his separate chambers, likely asleep. The guards rarely patrolled this section of the mansion.
The footsteps stopped outside the study door.
Sofia moved with silent speed, positioning herself behind a tall bookshelf that provided both cover and a view of the entrance.
Her hand found the small knife she kept hidden in her dress, not that she knew how to use it effectively, but having a weapon was psychologically comforting.
The door opened slowly, a figure entered, carrying a dim lantern.
It was Zach.
Sofia's brother looked exhausted, his expensive robes rumpled and his hair disheveled.
He moved to his desk without noticing her presence, set down the lantern, and began searching through papers with increasing frustration.
"Where did I put it?" he muttered to himself. "The contract should be here..."
Sofia remained perfectly still, barely breathing. If Zach discovered her now, before the plan was complete, everything would be jeopardized.
Zach opened the drawer with the false bottom, removed the compartment, and pulled out the leather folder. He flipped through it quickly, found whatever document he needed, and tucked it into his robes.
"Finally," he sighed. "If Aria presses me again about the missing guild funds, this should satisfy her concerns."
He returned the folder to its hiding place, closed the drawer, and stood.
For a terrifying moment, his eyes swept toward the bookshelf where Sofia hid.
She pressed herself further into the shadows, her heart pounding despite the vampire charm's emotional dampening. Discovery now would ruin months of careful positioning.
But Zach's exhausted mind registered nothing unusual. He picked up his lantern and left the study, pulling the door closed behind him.
Sofia waited a full five minutes before emerging from her hiding spot. Her hands were shaking slightly, the first genuine emotional response she'd experienced in weeks.
'Too close,' she thought. 'I'm getting careless.'
She gave the study one final scan to ensure nothing was out of place, then left the way she'd come.
Within minutes, she was back in her own chambers, the door locked and the recording crystal hidden beneath a loose floorboard.
Tomorrow, she will deliver the crystal to Claire. The evidence would be copied, distributed, and weaponized. Zach's carefully documented crimes would become his undoing.