Episode2
1040 Words
“Sign it,” the man demands.
Mark wasn’t looking at the papers.
“What do you want?” he asks calmly.
“Control shares. Fifty-one percent.”
So that’s it.
This is about his company.
The man presses the gun harder.
“Your wife or your empire.”
Silence.
The air feels thin.
I look at Mark.
He is completely still.
Then he does something unexpected.
He steps forward.
“Take it,” he says.
The room freezes.
“Take all the shares.”
The man blinks.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“For her?”
Mark’s voice drops lower.
“She is not a bargaining chip.”
Something shifts inside me.
He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t argue.
He chose me.
The man laughs nervously.
“Too late.”
A loud bang echoes.
But it’s not from the gun near my head.
Security bursts in.
Chaos explodes.
The man is tackled.
The gun falls.
I stumble forward.
Strong arms catch me.
Mark.
He pulls me against his chest.
His heart is beating fast.
For the first time, I felt it.
He presses his hand against the back of my head.
“You’re safe now,” he murmurs.
His voice is different now.
Not cold. Not controlling.
Not angry. Not scared.
And suddenly I understand something that changed everything: This marriage may have started as protection. But somewhere along the way, it stopped being a deal, and I became his weakness.
The police took the attacker away.
The reception was canceled.
Guests are escorted out.
I am taken to Mark’s private penthouse instead of the honeymoon suite.
Security surrounds the building.
Mark stood near the window, phone pressed to his ear.
“Lock down every access point,” he says calmly. “Internal investigation starts now.”
He ends the call and turns to me.
“You’re moving in.”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
His jaw tightens.
“Not if I want you alive.”
That word again. “Alive.”
“Wasn’t this random?” I ask.
“No.”
He walks to his desk and pulls up surveillance footage.
The attacker had inside access credentials.
That means someone inside Vincent Industries helped him.
Someone powerful.
I feel small suddenly.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I whisper.
He looks at me sharply.
“You are here because someone thinks you matter.”
“Why would I matter?”
His eyes darken.
“Because you matter to me. You are my wife.”
Silence.
My heart stumbles.
He looks away first.
The next morning began with warm light seeping through the room.
I forgot everything for a moment.
The k********g, the gun, and the fear of losing my dad.
The scent of egg and coffee filled the room.
I walked slowly into the kitchen and froze.
Mark was there. Barefoot, sleeves rolled up, looking calm like he didn’t turn my life around 12 hours ago.
“Good morning, wife,” he teased.
Good morning, I responded slowly.
I watch him plate the eggs carefully.
Breakfast is ready. Have a sit.
I picked up the remote to switch on the television as I sat.
Boom, the television turned on, and I saw it—
Breaking news….. Vincent Industries is under investigation.
Every channel. Same headline.
Illegal military software development.
Money laundering.
Old footage of the explosion five years ago has been leaked again.
The footage rolled.
The one that made Mark a widower in the public eye.
“It appears that new evidence was found, and the explosion may have been staged….”
Stocks dropped.
Board members are panicking.
Reporters outside Vincent Industries.
I watch the news with shaking hands.
“What’s happening?” I ask.
He walked towards me, looking directly at me.
No panic, no hesitation.
He looked at me, not shocked.
“What’s all this?” I ask, trembling.
“I staged the explosion,” he admits. “Oh my God,” I screamed.
But not to hurt anyone.
“ You just admit to staging it.
“His voice trembling,” I used it to expose corruption in my father’s company.
He paused.
“Someone changed the device timing. They tried to kill me.”
You won’t understand what they were planning, Erica.
“ Then make me understand!
Someone from the company has been helping Frank take over Vincent Industries.
His phone rang. I was still trying to process everything when he dropped the call and said: Right now, we need to go!”
Mark took me to the company.
We arrived at Vincent Industries, reporters everywhere. I tried to get him to talk, but his security helped us pass through, and we got in.
The boardroom is straight, with glass walls. Twenty executives are staring at me.
As we enter….he says calmly, “This is my wife, Erica.”
She will attend meetings henceforth.
Whispers fill the room.
After the meeting, one man approaches Mark.
The CFO.
Polite smile. Calm eyes.
But something feels wrong.
Later that night, Mark shows me financial data.
Funds missing.
Internal transfers.
Someone is draining money quietly.
“It’s him,” I whisper.
He nods slightly.
“Yes.” The CFO has been planning this for years.
The explosion. The scandal.
The attack at the wedding — all connected.
“But why me?” I ask again.
Mark steps closer.
“Because you are the only thing that can make me weak.”
I was quiet, thinking of what to say when his phone rang.
“Did you see the news?” the person on the phone said.
Mark switched on the television immediately.
FRANK WILL appeared, announcing “concerned interest” in acquiring Vincent Industries to stabilize the market.
He speaks about me.
“Erica deserves better.”
I feel sick immediately.
Mark’s expression did not change.
“He wants you to distrust me,” he says.
“Frank sent me a message after the wedding,” I admitted.
“If you leave him, I can protect your family.”
But then I remember the gun at my head and how you chose me without hesitation.
So I ignored and deleted his message.
Mark chuckles and says—I know what to do.
- Writer
