Page 83 of This Life of Mine

This line of work doesn’t tolerate exposure. The second facial recognition starts making noise, people start digging. Andpeople in this world don’t dig for curiosity—they dig to eliminate loose ends.

“That’s not the biggest issue anymore,” Reese says.

I already know by his tone that he found something bad.

I move back toward the laptop, eyes narrowing at Lina’s file still open across the screen. “Talk to me.”

I hear Reese exhale on the other end of the line, keyboard clicks filling the silence between us.

“I started digging deeper into the contract payment trail,” he says. “Not the wallets themselves. Whoever funded this buried it too well. But I believe I found what triggered the contract.”

I glance back toward Lina’s file on the screen. Her photo stares back at me, smiling, completely unaware someone put a price on her life.

“What triggered it?” I ask.

“It’s tied to money.”

Of course it is.

In our experience, it always comes down to one of three things. Power. Revenge. Money. Sometimes all three.

“I dug through Lina’s financials,” Reese continues. “Trusts. Divorce records. Inheritance filings. That’s where things got interesting.”

I rest against the counter, already feeling something ugly beginning to take shape. “How interesting?”

“There’s a trust in Lina’s name established by Virginia Allister before she died.”

The Allister’s. Her ex’s family. Old Texas money wrapped in polished reputations and country club appearances. The kind of family that donates to children’s hospitals while destroying people behind closed doors.

“I already know about the pregnancy clause,” I say. “Five million payout just for being pregnant. Protected from marital access.”

“Right,” Reese says. “That part wasn’t hidden.”

Meaning something else was. I straighten. “What did you find?”

“There’s an addendum attached to the trust.”

His voice lowers slightly. “It was buried separately under secondary legal filings tied to the original pregnancy clause. Different attorneys. Different timestamps. Almost like somebody didn’t want it easily connected.”

Anxiety grips my core.

“Reese, quit stalling.”

“Lina receives another five million dollars every five years for the rest of her life.”

Silence fills the house. Rain taps softly against the windows while the words settle into place inside my head.

Five million. Every five years. Forever.

“As long as she’s alive,” Reese adds, “the payments continue.”

I foresee the direction this is heading before he says it.

“And if she dies?”

“The money folds back into the primary Allister family trust.”

I stare out the window. There it is. The motive.