Chapter 16: The Blueprint of Revenge
The garden, once a place of quiet contemplation, had become their clandestine war room. Over the next few days, Lara and Nick met there sporadically, always under the guise of casual conversation if anyone passed by. The urgency in Lara's eyes was a mirror to the grim determination hardening Nick's usually gentle features. The initial shock of Lara's proposition had given way to a chilling sense of purpose. He found himself drawn into her meticulous planning, a surprising sense of camaraderie blossoming between them, born from their shared torment.
Lara was systematic, her mind sharp and cold. "Albert's habits," she began, sketching a rough layout of the penthouse on a discarded napkin. "He's predictable. Every night, after his last business call, usually around eleven, he retires to his study. He sits there, drinks a glass or two of expensive whiskey, and reviews documents. He rarely locks the study door, believing himself secure in his own home. And he usually leaves the balcony door open for the breeze, especially on warm nights."
Nick listened intently, nodding. He knew Albert's presence, that heavy, self-satisfied aura, even from the lower floors. "What about the staff?" he asked, remembering Mang Bonoy and the cleaners.
"Mang Bonoy is on night duty, but he stays in his quarters on the ground floor. The other staff leave by nine. Albert prides himself on his privacy in the evenings," Lara explained, her voice low. "He believes no one would dare intrude on his 'sanctum.'" She looked at Nick, a cold, hard glint in her eyes. "That's his arrogance. That's his biggest weakness."
They discussed the approach. The penthouse was accessible via the main elevator, which required a key card after certain hours, but Lara had a spare for Nick. "You'll need to disable the security cameras near the elevator leading to the penthouse floor," Lara instructed, her voice steady. "They're older models. A quick power cut to that specific circuit box, located in the maintenance closet on the 4th floor, should do it. It's unmarked, but I'll show you."
Nick, with his engineering mind, understood the logistics. "And once I'm up there?"
Lara outlined the entry point. "The main door will be locked, but the balcony door to his study often isn't. He likes the fresh air. You'll need to go through the service stairs to the roof, then rappel down to the penthouse balcony. It's risky, but less traceable than the main entrance." She saw the flicker of apprehension in Nick's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by resolve.
"What then?" Nick asked, his voice a tight whisper.
Lara paused, her gaze hardening. "He has a heavy crystal paperweight on his desk. It’s solid. Unbreakable." She didn't need to elaborate. The unspoken violence hung in the air, a chilling understanding passing between them.
"And you, Lara?" Nick asked, a tremor in his voice. "What will you be doing?"
"I'll be in our bedroom," she said, her eyes fixed on his. "Asleep. Or appearing to be. I'll provide an alibi. A witness to his 'accident.' Or a very confused, grieving widow." Her voice was devoid of emotion, a practiced neutrality that sent shivers down Nick's spine. She was meticulously calculating, detached.
They went over the details again and again, refining the timing, identifying potential pitfalls. Their conversations were terse, focused, stripped of any personal history. They were co-conspirators now, bound by a terrible secret and a shared objective. The thought of what they were planning was monstrous, but the alternative—a life of perpetual humiliation under Albert's thumb—felt even more so.
As they rose to leave the garden, the setting sun cast long, ominous shadows. Lara looked at the rows of apartment doors, each a silent witness. The weight of fifty lives, fifty stories, fifty secrets, pressed down on her. But tonight, only one door truly mattered. The door to Albert's study. The door to their freedom. The keys to desire had unlocked a darkness she never knew existed, and now, they would be used to unlock the ultimate release.
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