Surprise Marriage to a Billionaire
Chapter 291: Grander Scheme

Chapter 291: Grander Scheme

Another morning came, and for some reason, it felt a bit incomplete without Aunt Melanie and the rest of the family gathered for breakfast around the long dining table.

"I can’t believe I’m already missing Ben," Father Rock muttered with a shrug, his expression a mix of amusement and longing.

"It’s because you two are always together, Dad. But don’t worry... once I wrap up a few things, you’ll see more of me around here. I’ll be working from home!" Alexander said casually, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Oh goodness, but son, you’re so boring to be with!" Father Rock jested, earning a burst of laughter from Rain. There was a grain of truth in his words compared to William’s endless energy and cheerful antics, Alexander was far more reserved.

"Well, like William, I’m sure you’ll find ways to entertain yourself even with my boring company," Alexander retorted with a small shrug, his tone deadpan. Rain shook her head with a grin as she finished her meal, sipping her milk when her phone suddenly rang.

"Excuse me, I need to take this," she said, stepping aside to answer the call.

"We have a problem," Matt’s voice came through, urgency lacing his tone.

Rain’s brow furrowed. "What happened?"

"Minister Rick Brown’s body was found in his car. He’s dead. There’s a suicide note next to him," Matt reported grimly.

"What?!" Rain exclaimed, her voice sharp with disbelief. "I’ll be there immediately. Meet me at the morgue."

She ended the call, her face pale as she turned to Alexander. "What happened?" he asked, his tone serious.

"The Minister was found dead. They’re ruling it a suicide. I need to get to the morgue now," Rain said, already moving toward the door.

"I’m coming with you," Alexander insisted, standing and grabbing his jacket. The two rushed out after briefly bidding Father Rock goodbye.

Rain didn’t argue when Alexander insisted on coming with her. As they arrived at the morgue, she spotted Matt waiting near the entrance. Just outside, Ella sat in a wheelchair, sobbing uncontrollably, with her mother by her side trying to comfort her.

"Prosecutor Lancaster," Matt called out, stepping forward. "The DNA of the body matches Minister Rick Brown’s. It’s confirmed... it’s him," he reported, handing over the documents.

Ella’s cries grew louder as she caught the exchange. "That’s my real husband! They killed him!" she wailed, attempting to rise from her wheelchair. Rain immediately reached out, steadying her before gently helping her back into the chair. Then, Rain knelt down beside her, gripping her trembling hands.

Ella clung tightly to Rain, her eyes red and filled with desperation. "You must find the culprit! I’m sure that impostor is the one who killed my real husband!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Please, Prosecutor, bring justice to Rick! He would never commit suicide... he’s not that kind of man! Someone did this to him!"

Rain’s heart tightened at the raw grief in Ella’s voice. "I’ll look into this, Mrs. Brown," she promised firmly. "For now, please try to calm down. I’ll assign my team to escort you. For now, think more about your baby."

Ella nodded weakly, tears streaming down her face, as Rain rose to her feet. Her resolve hardened... this was no ordinary case, and there was no way she was letting this go unanswered.

Rain released a long, deep sigh as she watched Ella being escorted away, her cries fading into the distance. Straightening her posture, she turned to Matt. "Let’s go," she said, her voice steady, though her heart was heavy. Together, they entered the morgue with Alexander behind.

The forensic pathologist stood near the examination table. "The cause of death is consistent with poisoning," she began, flipping through her notes. "Specifically, a fast-acting cyanide compound. Based on our preliminary findings, he likely ingested it orally. Traces of the substance were found on his lips, tongue, and esophagus. The rapid onset of symptoms would have caused paralysis, respiratory failure, and death within minutes."

Rain’s brows furrowed as she listened. Then she turned to Matt. "What about the delivery method? Was it self-administered?"

Matt spoke quickly, his tone grim. "There was an open vial found in the car’s console, with residue matching cyanide compounds on his fingers. It indicates he handled the vial himself. Additionally, the suicide note found beside the body matches Rick Brown’s handwriting, based on a preliminary comparison."

Rain folded her arms, her expression sharp. "Was there anything unusual about the note? Did it seem forced or coerced?"

"That’s hard to say for sure," Matt replied. "It’s short and apologetic—standard for a suicide note. But I’d recommend a deeper forensic analysis to check for any signs of coercion or manipulation."

Rain exchanged a glance with Matt. "What else?"

"There are no signs of a struggle, no defensive wounds. The poisoning was precise and clean. That said, given the nature of this case, we need to verify the handwriting thoroughly and test for any external toxins that might suggest he was incapacitated before ingesting the cyanide."

Rain’s gaze shifted to the body. Her brows furrowed as she studied it. "Matt, don’t you think this body looks thinner than the Rick Brown we met yesterday?"

Matt nodded, his tone low. "That’s the first thing I noticed. This one looks like he’s been starved for days."

Rain closed her eyes briefly, the realization hitting her hard. The body before them was undoubtedly the real Rick Brown.

After instructing the pathologist to proceed with deeper analysis, she exited the morgue with Matt and Alexander. Her mind raced, frustration building.

"This case is becoming a labyrinth," Rain muttered, more to herself than anyone else. She stopped abruptly, turning to Matt. "I need every piece of evidence scrutinized... DNA samples, handwriting analysis, toxin testing. Everything. And track down that impostor. He’s the key to unraveling this."

Matt nodded again, his expression grim. "Understood. I’ll get the team on it right away."

Rain clenched her jaw, her gaze distant. "We’re already behind, Matt. The enemy isn’t just a step ahead. They’re orchestrating every move. If the impostor isn’t already dead, it’s only a matter of time. We can’t let them erase all the evidence. We’re dealing with people who won’t hesitate to eliminate loose ends. If we don’t act quickly, we risk losing everything."

******

In Michael’s underground facility, the fake Rick Brown dragged himself to his knees, desperation etched across his face. "Sir, please, give me another chance!" he begged, his voice trembling. "You can do another operation on my face. I’ll make sure there are no loose ends this time!"

Michael exhaled a plume of smoke, the rings dissipating slowly as he fixed his cold gaze on the man groveling before him. "I warned you," he said, his tone icy. "I told you to be careful, to avoid raising suspicions. I gave you six months! Six months to study every detail, every nuance, to become Rick Brown. And yet, you failed."

"Please, I beg you!" the impostor cried, tears streaming down his face. "Don’t kill me. I’m still useful... I can make things right!"

Michael’s expression darkened. "Useful?" He leaned forward, his voice low and menacing. "You’re a liability now. And liabilities have no place in my operation."

The impostor broke into sobs, but Michael was unmoved. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and turned to his men. "Get this fool out of my sight. Bury him alive and make sure it’s deep enough that no one ever finds him."

Without hesitation, Michael’s men grabbed the impostor, his screams echoing as he was dragged away. Michael lit another cigarette. "Amateurs," he muttered, blowing out another cloud of smoke.

Michael’s lips curled into a smile as he felt Dina’s familiar arms wrap around him from behind. Her voice was soft, almost teasing. "Are you excited to finally see my new face?" she murmured. Her face was still covered in bandages from the recent procedures.

He turned to face her, his grin widening. "Of course," he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from the bandages. "You’re my greatest creation. My masterpiece. But remember, a masterpiece is only as good as the role it plays in the grander scheme. Study your part well... this isn’t a game where we can afford mistakes."

Dina pouted, her tone playful yet edged with caution. "And what if I fail, Michael? Will you get rid of me like you did him?"

Michael chuckled, a sound that was both warm and chilling. He reached out, taking her hands in his and giving them a reassuring squeeze. "You’re different, Dina. I’m quite fond of you. So no, I won’t be so quick to discard you."

Her pout softened into a small smile, but his next words wiped away any comfort she might have felt. "But," he continued, his voice firm, "fondness doesn’t mean immunity. Fail, and you’ll still face punishment. So make sure you play your role to perfection."

Dina nodded slowly, her playful demeanor replaced with determination. "I won’t disappoint you, Michael," she promised, though a flicker of uncertainty lingered in her eyes.