My Husband And His Wife

Chapter Three

My father’s office was silent as we finalized the “fake” strategy, but my mind was already three steps ahead. I left his office and retreated to my own, the heavy oak door shutting out the bustle of the corporate world.

I sat at my desk and pulled a sleek, unmarked tablet from my bag-the one private investigator, Sterling, has delivered via courier only minutes ago. My heart felt like a trapped bird against my ribs.

“Show me the truth”, I whispered, my thumb trembling as I swiped the screen to unlock the encrypted file.

The first few photos were what I expected…Larry and Anna were at the park three months ago, looking like a happy family with Leo. Larry had told me he was at a golf tournament that day. The lies were documented, time-stamped, and undeniable.

As I scrolled further down, I hit a folder labeled 'FINANCIALS:OFFSHORE'. I clicked it, expecting to see my own inheritance being funneled away. Instead, I saw a scan of a document that turned my blood into liquid nitrogen. The sudden, ice-cold realization coursed through me, leaving my hands trembling involuntarily, as if they were reacting to the chilling truth I had just uncovered.

It was a life insurance policy.

It wasn’t a policy Larry had taken out for himself. It was a policy for me. The payout was astronomical, fifty million dollars, and it was signed just one week after our wedding.

My eyes blurred as I read the fine print. In the event of my “accidental death”, the sole beneficiary wasn’t my father. It wasn’t trust.

It was Larry.

But that wasn’t the cliffhanger. My breath hitched as I noticed a small, handwritten note scanned at the bottom of the application. The handwriting was elegant, slanted, and chillingly familiar. I knew that script; I had seen it on countless “Get well” cards and birthday notes.

It was Anna’s handwriting.

And the note simply read, “The brakes are just the beginning. Make sure she doesn’t survive the winter”.

A cold sweat broke across my forehead. They didn’t just want my money through a slow divorce or trust fund manipulation. They were planning a “permanent” solution.

Suddenly, my office phone buzzed. I jumped, nearly dropping the tablet. I pressed the intercom with a shaky hand.

“Yes?”

”Mrs. Vance”, my secretary's voice chirped. “Your husband is here to see you before his meeting with your father. He says he has a ‘surprise’ for you. He’s headed up now”.

I looked at the door. I looked at the note on the screen, a death warrant written by the woman I had taken like my best friend.

The elevator chimed down.

Larry was coming. And for the first time, I realized I wasn’t just playing a game for money. I was playing a game for my life.

I swept the tablet into my drawer and locked it just as the door handle began to turn.

“Babe?” Larry’s voice called out, sounding more loving than ever. “I brought you something”.

I stood up, smoothed my skirt, and forced the most terrifying smile I had ever worn.

“Come in, Babe”, I said, my voice as steady as a heartbeat. “I love surprises”.

The door swung open, and Larry stepped in, looking every bit the doting husband. He was carrying a small, square box wrapped in cream-colored silk.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that threatened to choke me. Just seconds ago, I had been staring at my own death warrant in Anna’s handwriting. Now, I had to let the man who signed it breathe the same air as me.

“You look tense, babe”, Larry said, his eyes scanning my face with terrifying precision. He walked toward me, the expensive leather of his shoes silent on the plush carpet. “Is the board giving you trouble again?”

“Just the quarterly stress”, I said, my voice coming out remarkably smooth. I walked around my desk. I didn’t want him anywhere near the drawer that held the evidence of his treachery. “What are you doing here? I thought you were heading straight to father’s office”.

“I was, but I saw this in the window of that boutique you like on 5th, and I couldn’t resist”. He handed me the box. His fingers brushed mine, and for a split second, I imagined his hands around my throat instead of offering a gift.

I unwrapped the silk with trembling fingers. Inside was a delicate gold bracelet, encrusted with small, deep-red rubies.

“Rubies”, I whispered. The color of blood.

“They reminded me of you”, he murmured, stepping into my personal space. He took the bracelet from the box and reached for my wrist. “Passionate. Strong. Rare”.

As he clipped the cold metal onto my skin, I looked at his face. He looked sincere. That was the most terrifying part. He could look at me with “love” while planning to sabotage my car's brakes.

“It’s beautiful, babe. Thank you,” I leaned in and kissed his cheek. His skin felt like ice against my lips.

“Anything for my queen”, he said, his smile widening. “Anyway, I should get going. Your father doesn’t like to be kept waiting, and we have a lot to discuss regarding the new estate planning”.

“Good luck”, I called out as he turned to leave. “I’ll see you at home tonight”.

The moment the door closed, I collapsed into my chair. My breath came in ragged gasps. I looked down at the red stones on my wrist. They didn’t look like a gift; they felt like a shackle.

I grabbed my phone and buzzed my assistant. “Sarah, cancel my afternoon. I’m going out. And call the garage-I want my SUV brought around, not the convertible”.

I wasn’t taking the car Larry had access to. Not today.

The Secret Meeting: Shadows and Truths

Forty minutes later, I was sitting in the back of a dimly lit café on the outskirts of the city, far from the prying eyes of the Shiny Holdings’ social circle. Opposite me sat Mr. Sterling, the private investigator. He was a man who looked like he was made of shadows, with gray hair and eyes that had seen too much of the world’s filth.

“You’re late, Mrs. Vance”, he said, sliding a fresh manila envelope across the table.

“I have a… distraction”, I replied, my eyes fixed on the envelope. “What else did you find?”

“You were right about the step-sister story”, Sterling said, leaning back. “There is no blood relation. Anna Miller and Larry Vance met in an orphanage in Ohio seventeen years ago. They’ve been running cons together since they were teenagers. Small stuff at first-insurance fraud, identity theft. But you? You’re their ‘Grand Slam’”.

I opened the envelope.

“Leo’s birth certificate”, I whispered.

“Look at the father’s name”, Sterling prompted.

I looked. The name wasn’t Larry Vance. It was Julian Vane.

“He changed his name three years ago”, Sterling explained. “Right around the time he started scouting for a high-value target. He spent two years studying your family, Mrs Vance. He joined the same gym as your father, frequented the same charity galas… he even timed that supermarket meeting based on your monthly routine”.

A chill that had nothing to do with the café’s air conditioning settled in my bones. My entire marriage was a scripted play. Every “I love you”, every shared laugh, every plan for the future-it was all a lie.

“And the brakes?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “The note Anna wrote?”

“I checked your convertible this morning while you were in the office”, Sterling said grimly. “The brake line has been tampered with. A slow leak. By the time you reached the highway on your way home tonight, you would have had nothing but a dead pedal and a high-speed turn ahead of you”.

I closed my eyes. I had been living with a murderer.

“What do you want to do?”Sterling asked. “We have enough to go to the police for the attempted murder”.

“No”, I said, opening my eyes. My grief was gone, replaced by cold, burning rage. “The police will just lock them up. They’ll get lawyers. They’ll get a comfortable cell. That’s not enough.”

I leaned forward, the ruby bracelet Larry gave me catching the dim light of the café.

“They want my fortune? I’m going to let them think they have it. I want them to reach for the prize, and right when they think they have it… I want to strip away everything they’ve ever cared about. I want them to lose each other. I want them to lose their son. I want them to have nothing but the clothes on their backs and the knowledge that I was the one who destroyed them”.

Sterling raised an eyebrow. “That’s a long game, Mrs. Vance. It’s dangerous”.

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve always been a fast learner”, I replied. “Now, tell me…does Anna have any secrets she’s keeping from Larry?”

Sterling smiled-a slow, predatory grin. “As a matter of fact, she does.