My Husband Thought I Couldn’t Speak Korean—At a $1,400

The cold steel of the handcuffs snapped aggressively around my wrists.

I stared at the two homicide detectives in absolute, paralyzing disbelief.

"You have the wrong woman," I stated firmly, refusing to let the panic consume me.

"I haven't been in this hospital since two o'clock this morning."

"I was at First Boston Bank when my husband died."

The lead detective, a burly man named Callahan, scoffed loudly.

"We literally have you on tape, Mrs. Halston."

"You were wearing the exact same navy blue designer coat you have on right now."

"You walked into his room, stayed for two minutes, and walked out."

My mind raced, desperately trying to put the pieces together.

I had been wearing this coat last night at the restaurant, but I had left it draped over the chair in the waiting room when I rushed out to call my private investigator.

Someone had stolen my coat, walked into the ICU, and murdered my husband.

"It wasn't me!" I yelled as they marched me out of the hospital in front of staring doctors and nurses.

"Check the bank's security cameras!"

"I was there!"

They shoved me roughly into the back of an unmarked police cruiser and sped away toward the precinct.

I sat in the cramped, plastic back seat, my mind working with terrifying clarity.

Brooke Ellis had fled the bank immediately after I bypassed her forged power of attorney.

She had realized Richard left the evidence of her corporate espionage in my name.

She needed to eliminate Richard before he woke up and exposed her, and she needed me locked away so I couldn't use the photographs against her.

She had stolen my coat and framed me for murder.

The detectives dragged me into an interrogation room and handcuffed me to a heavy steel table.

For three agonizing hours, I sat in complete silence.

Finally, the heavy metal door clicked open.

It wasn't Detective Callahan who walked into the room.

It was Daniel Han, the billionaire investor, wearing a pristine, tailored suit.

He looked perfectly calm, completely unbothered by the fact that he was walking into a police interrogation room.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice raw with anger.

Daniel sat down across from me and placed a sleek, black briefcase on the table.

"I am here to offer you a way out, Margaret," Daniel said smoothly in flawless English.

"I know you didn't kill your husband."

"I know Brooke Ellis did."

I glared at him, remembering the photographs I had found in the safety deposit box.

"You hired her," I accused him fiercely.

"You planted her in my husband's life to steal his company."

Daniel smiled a cold, predatory smile that sent a shiver down my spine.

"Your husband's real estate portfolio is worth half a billion dollars, Margaret."

"I simply wanted to acquire it at a severe discount."

"Brooke was supposed to sabotage the deals and force him into bankruptcy so I could buy the assets for pennies."

He leaned forward, steepling his fingers.

"But Brooke got greedy."

"She didn't want a consultant's fee; she wanted to be the wealthy widow who inherited the entire empire."

"So, she forged the power of attorney and murdered him when she realized he was onto her."

I pulled against the handcuffs, pure fury flooding my system.

"Why are you telling me this?" I hissed.

"Because Brooke is currently attempting to transfer all of Richard's corporate assets into a private account in the Cayman Islands," Daniel explained calmly.

"And as his legal widow, you are the only person who can legally freeze those accounts and stop her."

Daniel reached into his jacket and pulled out a key to my handcuffs.

"I have already provided the police with conclusive, timestamped security footage proving you were at the bank during the murder."

"You are officially a free woman, Margaret."