BENEATH THE LIES

Closer to the Edge

Chapter 4

Micheal ’s POV

I watched June Walk out of the gala, her figure disappearing into the night. A wave of dread washed over me, tightening my chest. She had been acting strange all night, her eyes sharp, her movements cautious. She was onto something, and I couldn’t afford to let her get too close.

Mr. Ethan ’s voice broke into my thoughts, low and impatient. “Your wife seems distracted.”

I forced myself to focus, plastering on a calm expression. “She’s fine. Just tired.”

He eyed me suspiciously, clearly unconvinced. “She’s asking too many questions, Micheal . If she keeps digging, she’s going to cause problems for both of us.”

“I know,” I muttered, my voice laced with frustration. “I’ll handle it.”

Mr Ethan grunted, his gaze hardening. “You better. We’re on the verge of something big, and I won’t let anyone—wife or not—jeopardize it. If she becomes a liability, you know what you need to do.”

My stomach clenched at his words, a cold shiver running down my spine. Mr Ethan wasn’t someone to make idle threats. I nodded stiffly, though the thought of what he was suggesting made me feel sick.

As Mr Ethan turned to leave, my phone buzzed again. I glanced at the screen—another message from an unknown number.

"She knows more than you think. Be careful."

I stared at the message, my blood running cold. This was the third message I’d received in the past week, all from the same anonymous sender. Whoever it was, they knew too much. And they were watching June closely.

I quickly deleted the message, my mind racing. Who was behind this? Was someone in my inner circle feeding them information? Or worse—was it someone I trusted?

My hands shook as I shoved the phone back into my pocket. I couldn’t think straight. Everything was falling apart, and I was losing control. June's sudden curiosity, Mr Ethan's threats, the anonymous messages—it was all spiraling too fast. I needed to get ahead of it, and soon.

But how? How do you protect yourself from a truth that’s already seeping through the cracks?

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration boiling inside me. I didn’t want to believe that June was truly capable of digging up my secrets, but the signs were all there. Her subtle glances, the way she tried to overhear conversations—she was too close.

I couldn’t let her find out about the shipment. I couldn’t let her know about the deals I’d made. There was too much at stake. But what scared me the most was the possibility that someone was feeding her information. Someone who knew every move I made.

I needed answers.

I left the gala without saying another word to Mr Ethan, my footsteps heavy as I walked toward my car. The night was quiet, but inside my head, it felt like a storm was brewing. I needed to talk to June, but not here. Not in public. This conversation had to be controlled.

As I drove home, my thoughts raced. Every worst-case scenario played out in my mind. What if she had already found something? What if she was planning to expose me? I couldn’t let that happen. I had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to let it all crumble now.

When I finally pulled up to the house, the lights were still on. June hadn’t gone to bed yet. Of course, she hadn’t. She was waiting for me, probably ready to confront me again. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising tension in my chest. I had to stay calm, play this smart.

I stepped inside, the soft click of the door echoing through the quiet house. I could hear the faint sounds of the television in the living room. June was sitting on the couch, her legs curled beneath her, staring blankly at the screen. But I knew she wasn’t watching it. She was thinking. About me. About us.

“June,” I called softly as I walked into the room.

She glanced up, her expression unreadable. “You’re home late.”

“I had to finish up with Mr Ethan,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “How was the rest of the gala?”

She shrugged, her eyes flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. “It was fine.”

Silence hung between us, heavy and suffocating. I could feel the tension growing, the unspoken words hanging in the air. I sat down on the armchair across from her, watching her carefully. I had to tread lightly.

“We need to talk,” I said finally.

Her eyes met mine, and I saw it—the doubt, the suspicion. She wasn’t going to let this go. “Yes, we do,” she replied, her voice steady but cold. “What’s going on, Micheal ? What are you hiding from me?”

My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my expression calm. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting strange for months,” she said, sitting up straighter, her eyes narrowing. “The phone calls, the late nights, the lies. Don’t tell me I’m imagining it, Micheal . I know something’s wrong.”

I clenched my fists, trying to stay composed. She was pushing too hard, too fast. I couldn’t let her back me into a corner. “June, you’re overreacting,” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. “I’ve been under a lot of stress with work. That’s all it is.”

“Work?” She scoffed, her voice dripping with disbelief. “Do you think I’m stupid? I know there’s more to it than that.”

My pulse quickened, and I could feel the cracks in my composure beginning to show. “You don’t understand”

“No, I don’t,” she interrupted, her voice rising. “Because you won’t tell me the truth! What are you hiding, Micheal ?”

I stood up, unable to sit still any longer. My heart was racing, my mind scrambling for an answer, a way out. But before I could say anything, her phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at it, and her expression shifted, her brow furrowing in confusion.

I watched her pick up the phone, her eyes scanning the message. And then, I saw it—the moment of realization. Her face went pale, her hand trembling as she held the phone.

“What is it?” I asked, dread pooling in my stomach.

She looked up at me, her eyes wide with shock. “Who is this, Micheal ? Who’s sending me these messages?”

My blood ran cold. Messages? Someone was feeding her information. The same person who had been texting me. My worst fears were coming true.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, my voice barely steady. “What messages?”

She held up the phone, showing me the screen. I could barely make out the words, but they were enough to send panic coursing through me.

"He’s lying to you, June. Find out what he’s really doing before it’s too late."

My heart pounded in my chest, my mind reeling. Someone was trying to drive a wedge between us, and it was working. I could see the doubt in her eyes, the fear.

“I don’t know who sent that,” I said quickly, stepping toward her. “Someone’s messing with us, trying to cause problems.”

But she shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “No, Micheal . You’re the one causing problems. You’re the one who’s been lying to me.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. She was right. I had been lying. But I couldn’t tell her the truth. Not now. Not like this.

Without another word, she stood up, brushing past me as she headed toward the stairs. My chest tightened as I watched her go, the weight of my lies crashing down around me.

I was losing her. And if I didn’t act fast, I’d lose everything.