Chapter 10 - The False Victory
The photograph was crisp, brightly lit, and clearly taken very recently.
It showed June sitting in a plush leather chair inside what looked like a private jet.
She did not look terrified or kidnapped; she was actually smiling brightly at the camera.
Standing right behind her, resting a loving hand on her shoulder, was my father.
And standing next to my father, looking exactly as beautiful as she did five years ago, was my supposedly dead wife, Rebecca.
My hands shook so violently I dropped the photograph onto the marble countertop.
Rebecca was alive.
The car crash, the burned body, the mechanic's confession—it had all been an elaborate, terrifying lie.
I grabbed the handwritten note from the folder, my eyes scanning the elegant, familiar cursive script I thought I would never see again.
The note was incredibly short and completely devoid of emotion.
"Thank you for doing the dirty work of removing Blake from the company, Ethan," the letter read.
"Your father and I knew you were the only one ruthless enough to force a hostile takeover if you thought you were avenging me."
I stumbled backward, bumping hard against the refrigerator as the horrifying truth locked into place.
My father and my wife had orchestrated the entire five-year revenge plot to steal the company from Blake without getting their hands dirty.
They had used my grief and my love for June as a weapon to do their bidding.
May you like
I looked back down at the final line of the handwritten note.
"The company belongs to us now, Ethan, and so does our daughter."
