A Revenge For Ben

Naomi's POV I had just finished making love with my husband, my back against the bed, still breathing hard, with a satisfied smile on my face. I turned to him with a chuckle. "The s*x was great, Allen. I hope our son didn't hear us downstairs? The last thing I want is explaining what we were doing." Without looking at me, he scoffed. "Ben is 16, Naomi. At some point he's going to find out his parents have s*x. It's no big deal." "It's a big deal if he finds out by catching us doing it," I replied, my tone serious. "You sound like a cheating wife," Allen teased, his smile widening. I was about to respond when his phone started ringing. I checked the time. 2AM. "It's past midnight, Allen. Who the hell is calling you at this hour?" He exhaled sharply as he checked the caller. I tried to check but he hid the view from me. "It's nothing," he said sharply, without picking the call and quickly rose to his feet. "It's not nothing. And where the hell are you going?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing. He ignored me and got dressed, his breathing rapid, like the call made him realize he was out of time. "Allen? Answer me," I demanded. "Naomi." He paused. "I'm really sorry, something came up. I have to leave. I'll explain when I get back, I promise." "No! I want you to explain now, tell me what's going on." But he didn't answer, he was already walking out. I threw on my night gown as fast as I could and followed but he was faster. By the time I reached the door, his car was pulling out of the driveway. Ben appeared at the top of the stairs. "Mom? What's wrong? I heard you screaming earlier. And where's Dad going to by this time?" "I have no idea, he didn't say. You should go back to bed." "Did you guys fight over something? Is that why he's leaving?" I exhaled sharply. "Ben, bed now. No more questions." "Mom—" I rolled my eyes and turned to scold him when he said, "Your phone is ringing." I stopped. "It's on silence. It shouldn't be ringing out loud." But I heard it too. "Then whose phone is that?" I leaned in. My eyes widened. Allen's phone. He'd forgotten it. "Ben, go to bed." I ordered and then took the stairs fast. Maybe the phone would tell me something. Maybe it would help me understand why he bolted like a man running from something. I got to the room just as it stopped ringing. "Shit." I picked it up, my heart still unsettled. I tried to unlock it, but it showed wrong password. I exhaled. Tried again but to no avail. "Come on." I tried his mother's birthday. His childhood address. The year we met, they were all wrong. Then I tried his birthday. It opened instantly. I almost laughed at myself. Sixteen years and I'd overcomplicated it. I went straight to his messages, scrolling for anything that explained tonight. A work emergency, family crisis. Anything. But what my eyes saw was far from what I had imagined. A contact was saved as Anonymous with hundreds of messages at odd hours. Timestamps that matched nights Allen told me he was working late, traveling, stuck in meetings. My stomach turned as I opened it. The messages went back years when I just met Allen. I scrolled to the beginning. My hands were already shaking. Anonymous: The moment you're her husband you're one step closer to everything her father built. The Harrington Conglomerate doesn't belong to a dead man's daughter. It belongs to whoever is smart enough to take it. Allen: Patience. That's all this needs. Anonymous: I have plenty of it. Just don't fall in love with her. I stopped breathing. I scrolled forward. Years forward. Anonymous: You've been married three years. What's taking so long? Allen: These things can't be rushed. She trusts me completely but the inheritance is still tied up in the Harrington board structure. Her father's lawyers built walls around everything. I'm working on it. Anonymous: Work faster. I didn't sign up to share you with her for decades. Allen: You're not sharing me. You never were. She's a means to an end. You know that. My stomach lurched. Then I found a folder saved as s*x tapes containing videos. I told myself not to open them, but my body betrayed me. My thumb opened one. The first face I saw took a full second to register. Sandra. My college roommate. I opened another hoping I was wrong. I saw another familiar face, a friend of mine, Sasha. I blinked as tears rolled down my eyes. "I can't believe this is happening to me," I muttered. My heart felt like I had been stung deeply. "Mom?" Ben called from downstairs. "Not now," I responded sharply. Then his phone beeped with a new message from the contact he saved as anonymous. I opened it to read it with the speed of light. "I've been calling but you're not picking. It has to be tonight. If you want your wife's inheritance to be yours, she has to die tonight." My heart stopped, I blinked, and read it again. The words didn't change. The phone started ringing in my hand, my heart skipped as I picked it without thinking. What I heard was a gunshot, but not from the phone, from downstairs, where my son had just called me. “Ben?” The name tore out of me, I threw the phone away as instinct took over, ignoring the danger when it involved my son. I ran downstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. "Ben, are you alright? Answer me." The living room was dark except for the TV’s screen light. The front door was wide open. My eyes landed on Ben, he was on the floor, with blood pooled around him. “BEN!” I dropped to my knees, my tears already falling. “Mom,” he whispered. “Run!”