Chapter 567
Chapter 566:
“Oh, it is just an old family remedy, Mrs. Collins,” she said, forcing a bright smile. “My grandmother’s secret.” She quickly swept the vegetables into a pan, shifting the conversation along.
Jocelyn nodded, though a faint prick of unease touched the back of her neck. She brushed it off as pregnancy paranoia.
Later that evening, Gaston was locked in his home office, conducting a video conference with his Tokyo executives.
Jocelyn woke from a nap with a dry throat. She slipped out of bed, her bare feet moving silently across the thick rugs as she made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water.
As she approached, she noticed the heavy kitchen door was pulled nearly shut, leaving only a narrow crack open.
She reached for the handle — and stopped.
It was Martha’s voice. Not her usual warm, unhurried tone. This was hushed and rushed, carrying the unmistakable cadence of secrecy.
Jocelyn held her breath and leaned closer to the gap.
Through the crack, she could see Martha standing by the pantry, holding a thick, outdated flip phone — a burner. The kind of device designed to bypass the penthouse’s highly encrypted Wi-Fi network.
“Yes, ma’am,” Martha whispered. “She is doing much better. She drank two bowls of the broth today. Her color is coming back p>
𝖱𝗲cоm𝗺𝖾n𝗱 𝘁o y𝘰u𝗋 f𝗿𝘪еn𝖽ѕ
Jocelyn’s heart slammed against her ribs. A cold, sickening dread poured down her spine.
Ma’am.
A faint, raspy sound leaked from the phone’s cheap speaker — a wet, rattling cough, followed by a tearful, desperate voice.
“Thank you… thank you for taking care of my girl p>
Jocelyn stopped breathing.
She knew that cough. She knew that voice.
Elouise.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. The ginger broth. The grandmother’s secret. It was Elouise’s recipe. Martha was not a godsend. She was a spy, planted inside Jocelyn’s safe haven by the woman who had abused her.
A violent surge of betrayal and white-hot rage erupted in Jocelyn’s chest. The sanctuary Gaston had built for her had been breached.
Jocelyn shoved the heavy kitchen door open. It slammed against the wall with a deafening crack.
Martha lurched backward. The burner phone slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the tile floor, its screen glowing brightly with an active call to an unsaved number.
Jocelyn stared at her. Every trace of warmth had left her eyes, replaced by the cold, ruthless authority of the Collins matriarch.
Martha’s face drained of all color. She pressed back against the counter, her hands trembling.
Jocelyn stepped forward. She did not raise her voice. She bent down, picked up the burner phone, and pressed the speaker button.
“Martha? What was that noise?” Elouise’s frantic, wheezing voice echoed through the pristine kitchen.
Jocelyn brought the phone to her mouth.
“Your reach is too long, Mrs. Stein,” she said.
A dead silence fell over the line. Then Elouise dissolved into a fit of hacking coughs.
“Jocelyn… please,” she begged, her voice cracking. “I just wanted to make sure you were eating. I just wanted to care for you p>
Jocelyn’s jaw locked. She pressed the end call button, cutting her mother off mid-sob.