In the Fuller residence, even the maids recognized the power dynamics. Felicia, the true daughter, lacked the favor and influence Kayla commanded. They knew to adapt. If they weren't on Kayla's good side now, when would they be?
Mina, considering this, decided to act—for herself and her husband, Ruben. She called to Felicia, who was heading to her room. "Ms. Felicia! Wait a moment!"
Kayla, at the beach, meticulously planned, detailing each step until Shawn nodded in understanding. This time, she believed her plan flawless. Felicia would be erased, insignificant as a pebble in the ocean.
Stretching, Kayla walked toward the car. "Get to it," she ordered sharply. Shawn, clutching his cash, practically beamed. A hotel bed awaited him, no longer the bridge.
Approaching the Rolls-Royce, Kayla noticed the dashcam's altered position; her heart leaped. Ruben's recent defiance flashed through her mind. Where had he found the courage?
It clicked. He wouldn't have defied her unless he possessed leverage. Her thoughts raced to her meeting with Shawn the day before her Alverton visit. The dashcam had recorded their conversation. She'd told Ruben to delete the footage. But what if he hadn't?
Anger and fear surged, darkening her eyes. She turned, her voice low and icy, whispering to Shawn. He hesitated, then nodded and entered the car.
Ruben, oblivious, glanced in the rearview mirror, catching Shawn's smug expression as he handled the cash. Ruben rolled his eyes. "Ms. Kayla, should I—"
Before he finished, a leather belt encircled his neck. Shawn yanked it tight. Ruben's hands clawed at his throat, his legs kicking wildly. His face turned a suffocating red, veins bulging as he gasped and thrashed. Through the windshield, he met Kayla's cold gaze.
She knew about the memory card Ruben kept. Kayla searched Ruben's pockets, quickly finding the tiny card. She inserted it into the dashcam and hit play. The footage confirmed her suspicions—the damning conversation with Shawn; the footage Ruben had failed to delete.
Kayla sneered, holding the card aloft before snapping it in half. Ruben's lips moved, but no words came. His struggles weakened, his limbs went limp. His head slumped, and silence fell.
"Is… is he dead?" Shawn gasped, unable to see clearly. Kayla glanced at the body, then turned away, disgusted. "Get some alcohol. The strongest you can find. Now!"
"Okay!" Shawn scrambled out, sprinting to the nearest store. The beach was deserted. Cedar Street and its landfill were rarely visited at night. No one would witness their actions.
Kayla's initial panic subsided, replaced by cold calculation. Unbeknownst to her, Lance and his crew, hidden nearby, had seen everything. When the Rolls-Royce rocked, one of Lance's men zoomed in with his phone. What they captured left them speechless—Kayla strangling Ruben with Shawn's help, then destroying the evidence.
"Mr. Thompson," the man whispered, trembling. "What do we do? Should we stop them?"