Elena Vasquez

The laptop screen blurred, Victor Lang’s name a taunt in the dim glow of the mansion’s guest suite. My chest heaved, each breath a sob I refused to let out. Dad, Javier Vasquez, my hero, the man who’d taught me to balance books and dreams, wasn’t taken by stress or a cruel twist of fate. Alexander’s words clawed at me: Unusual toxins. Deliberate. Poisoned. Murdered. By Victor Lang, the monster who’d bet on my heart like it was a poker chip. The room spun, the ocean’s ...