The billionaire's murderous lover

Chapter four

Vincent

I was growing increasingly convinced that she was guilty of something. Why else would she be opposed to an autopsy?

“If someone killed him, they may come for me too,” I looked into her eyes as I spoke, “besides, you loved him. Why don't you want to know how he died?”

It was only her eyes that I could not remember from the night. The eyes that had looked into mine as our bodies had fought for a climax had been brown and warm. They had not been black beads that had only coldness to offer.

“You once said you were not afraid of death, was that a lie?” she asked, ignoring my question that was directed at her.

I did not answer her, I turned my attention to the nurse, “Maddie, how soon can we get an autopsy done?”

“I will have to ask our in-house forensic pathologist but I believe he should be able to do one tomorrow. You should know the cause of the death within the week. It would take longer to get the full report,” she explained to me.

“Vincent, we should discuss this. I am sure your father would not like some stranger…”

“I have made my decision, Tiffany,” came my cold response as I walked away from her.

I had never understood funeral services. I had never understood people gathering together to say nice things about the dead, especially when the dead was an evil person and someone who was just incapable of doing any good.

Today was Briggs Hearst funeral, a man who had fathered me biologically and had abused me verbally and physically throughout my life.

I had nothing nice to say about him so I decided it was best to avoid the service altogether. I knew my refusal to attend my father's funeral service would have tongues wagging and the media having a field day but I couldn't care less.

As I stepped into the theatre, my phone rang and I hung up as I spied the person calling me. It was Tiffany. I knew what she wanted to say to me. I had to stop being stubborn and attend my father's service. I had to pay homage to him, pay my last respects.

My phone beeped again and I was about to put the phone away until I spied a message from the pathologist.

You were right to insist on an autopsy, we found trace amounts of Thallium in his bloodstream. We have reported it to the police and they will be treating this case as a homicide.

As I finished reading the message, another call came in. It was an unknown number and on a normal day, I would not have answered the call but today was unusual. My father's funeral service was underway and the cause of his death had just been determined.

“Vincent?” it was Tiffany's voice. She sounded panicked.

“What now?”

“I need you to come and bail me, I'm at…” I hung up.

Perhaps she had been arrested for my father's murder?

Whatever it was, I was not interested in knowing.

I made my way deeper into the theatre and took a seat. It was noon and no one was present at the theatre this time of the day.

I sat down and watched as the light came on the stage.

The play that was on was Merchant of Venice.

I loved theatre so I did this once a week. Usually, there were two or three people present here but there was no one today.

I watched as the actors began the play.

I waited patiently for the court scene where Portia would disguise herself as a lawyer to defend her husband against the brutish Shylock.

As the scene began and the actors took their positions on stage, I saw Portia pull out a gun and shoot Shylock.

The sound of the gun jolted me from my seat.

I searched the stage, looking for Portia but she was not there. Portia was missing but I had clearly seen her face. She had been disguised as a man for the court scene but I remember the face. It looked freakishly like that of Tiffany's but I knew that could not be as Tiffany had called me from a cell to bail her.

I stood frozen, my eyes fixed on the c

haracter of Shylock lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

For several minutes the world around me froze too. The characters on stage seemed to have stopped moving entirely, not a single word or sound could be heard, time had stopped too and Portia had vanished.

I remained frozen with the world until the sound of the police sirens brought me back to the present. As the officers made their way into the theatre, I slipped out and walked to my car in a daze.

What the hell had just happened?