THE CONVICTED SON IN LAW

The Cover-Up

Michelle sat frozen on the couch, her knees pulled close to her chest. The room still smelled faintly of perfume, wine, and death. Across the floor, Daniella’s body lay beneath a white bedsheet Venny had draped over her in panic.

Every tick of the wall clock sounded louder than the last.

"They’re coming, right? Venny asked, pacing back and forth. His voice trembled despite his effort to sound composed. Michelle, your father said they’re coming, didn’t he?"

Michelle nodded faintly, her eyes wide and unfocused. "He said not to move. He said to stay put."She said like a kid trying hard to follow her father's instruction.

Venny ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. "God, we’re done. We’re so done.”

Then came the sound of the low rumble of an engine outside, followed by the muffled thud of car doors. Moments later, three men in black suits entered the apartment quietly, moving with military precision.

"Ms. Roland, the one in front said curtly. Your father sent us."

Michelle stood shakily, tears streaking her face. "She’s over there," she whispered, pointing toward the body.

The men exchanged brief glances, then one of them lifted the sheet slightly. His expression didn’t change. "We will handle it."

"Handle it? Venny repeated, his voice rising. You mean..."

The man shot him a sharp look. "You will both need to sit down and say nothing."

Venny swallowed hard and did as he was told.

The leader of the group, a tall man with a square jaw and cold eyes, began issuing orders in low tones. "Clean the floors. Get rid of the blood traces. Check for cameras. Wipe the security feeds from the lobby!!"

The men moved quickly. One knelt beside the body, checking for anything that might identify Daniella. "Phone, jewelry, personal items all collected," he murmured.

Another man began scrubbing the floor where the blood had seeped in faintly. The marble glistened as if nothing had happened.

Michelle watched in silence, her hands clasped tightly. The whole scene felt somehow with strangers moving around the apartment like ghosts, erasing her crime one stroke at a time.

When they rolled the body gently into a black bag, she turned away, covering her mouth. The sound of the zipper closing echoed through the apartment like thunder.

"Where are you taking her?" she whispered.

The man in charge didn’t look up. "Somewhere safe. Your father will decide the next step."

Venny’s face went pale. "Safe? You mean… gone?"

The man’s gaze flicked toward him, expressionless. "You don’t need to know details, Mr. Venny."

"I need to know everything! Venny snapped. This was an accident, for God’s sake! We didn’t mean to kill anyone!"

The man stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. "Then I suggest you stop talking before you say something you will regret."

Venny clenched his fists but said nothing more.

Two of the men lifted the black bag and carried it toward the service elevator. The others continued wiping surfaces, replacing the bloodstained rug, spraying the air with something sharp that masked the metallic scent.

Within half an hour, the apartment looked as if nothing had happened. The wine glasses had been washed, the shattered frame near the wall replaced, and the air carried no trace of the chaos that had erupted there just hours ago.

When they were done, the lead man turned to Michelle. "Your father’s driver will take you home now. He asked that you wait for him there."

Michelle nodded numbly. " What of Venny?"

"He stays, the man said coldly. Mr. Roland will contact him later."

Venny looked at her, panic flashing in his eyes. "Michelle, wait..."

But she was already being led toward the door, her steps unsteady.

.........

The ride to her father’s mansion was long and quiet. Every few minutes, she’d glance at her hands, half-expecting to see blood there. The weight in her chest made it hard to breathe.

When the gates of the Roland estate finally came into view, she felt her throat tighten. The massive iron bars opened slowly, revealing the sprawling white Mansion. Tonight, the mansion felt more like a fortress, cold and watchful.

Her father was waiting when she arrived.

Roland Senior stood in the doorway, still dressed in his dark suit from a late-night meeting. His expression was calm, unreadable, the face of a man used to solving crises that destroyed lesser men.

As soon as Michelle stepped out of the car, she broke down. "Dad....."

He caught her by the arm before she could fall apart. "Inside, he said sharply. Not here."

In the living room, Roland poured himself a glass of brandy. "Tell me exactly what happened."

Her lips trembled. "We were arguing… she said terrible things… I just...... I pushed her. I didn’t think"

"And she died?"

Tears streamed down her face. "Yes. I swear, Dad, it was an accident."

Roland nodded slowly, taking a sip of his drink. "The men have already reported in. The body is being handled."

Michelle’s breath caught. "Handled?"

He gave her a cold look. "Do you want to go to prison, Michelle?"

She shook her head quickly. "No."

"Then you will keep quiet. This never happened. Do you understand?"

She nodded weakly.

Roland walked to the window, staring out at the perfectly trimmed gardens. "Daniella’s family is powerful, he said quietly. The Cavanaughs own half of the logistics firms in the city. If they start asking questions, we will need a story."

Michelle clasped her hands together. "What story?"

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned toward her and said, "You leave that to me. For now, you say nothing to anyone, not your friends, not the press, not even your mother. This stays between us."

She sank into a chair, trembling. "Dad, what if they find her?"

Roland’s gaze was sharp. "They won’t. Not unless someone talks."

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. The only sound came from the grandfather clock ticking steadily in the corner.

After a while, Michelle rose to her feet, unsteady. "I need to rest."

"Go upstairs, Roland said. I will check in with the men again."

She climbed the grand staircase slowly, her reflection following her in the mirrored walls. The reflection of a woman who could no longer recognize herself. In her room, she sat on the bed, hugging a pillow tightly. The scent of the perfume she had worn earlier still clung to her, mocking her with memories of the night.

Downstairs, Roland picked up his phone and made a call. “Is it done?”

A voice on the other end replied, "Yes, sir. Everything’s clean. No traces left behind."

"And the body?"

"Being taken care of. It won’t be found easily."

Roland ended the call and exhaled slowly. His face, for a moment, showed something close to worry. He knew the Cavanaughs would notice Daniella’s disappearance soon. When they do, questions would start. The kind that could destroy even the most powerful names in Kreg City.

He turned on the television, more out of habit than interest. The late-night news anchor’s voice broke through the silence.

"Breaking news, the Cavanaugh family has reported their daughter, Daniella Cavanaugh, missing since this evening. The police have begun an investigation after her car was found abandoned near the riverfront. Authorities are urging anyone with information to come forward…"

Roland froze, staring at the screen. Daniella’s photograph appeared , smiling, radiant, full of life.

He lowered his glass slowly, his jaw tightening. "Damn it,"he muttered under his breath.

The camera cut to the Cavanaugh residence, surrounded by flashing police lights and reporters. Daniella’s mother was seen crying at the gate, pleading for her daughter’s return.

Upstairs, Michelle sat motionless on her bed, the same broadcast flickering across her screen. Her hands began to shake violently.

The words 'declared missing'repeated over and over in her head like a curse.

Tears welled up again as she pressed her palms against her face. "What have I done…?" she said questioning herself.