Chapter 1: The Perfect Victim
The blue loading circle on Marcus's phone seemed to spin forever.
I stood beside him, clutching the torn fabric of my red dress, trying to keep my breathing uneven. My cheek still burned from the slap I'd given myself. My hair hung messily over one shoulder.
I looked like a woman who had just survived an attack.
And Ethan looked like the man who had committed it.
At least, that was what I wanted Marcus to believe.
"Come on, Dad," Ethan said, wiping blood from his lower lip.
"Play it.""
Marcus glanced at me.
"Vanessa, why don't you go upstairs and get cleaned up?""
I tightened my grip on his sleeve.
"Please don't make me leave you alone with him.""
Ethan let out a bitter laugh.
"Unbelievable. You're still doing it.""
Marcus's expression hardened.
"That's enough.""
"No, Dad. It isn't enough. Not this time.""
The recording finally loaded.
Marcus tapped the screen.
The dining room appeared from the camera's overhead angle. The date and time were displayed in the corner.
8:42 P.M.
There I was, standing beside the dining table in my red silk dress.
There was Ethan, standing opposite me.
And between us sat three hundred thousand dollars in neatly arranged bundles.
Marcus increased the volume.
My recorded voice filled the room.
"Take the money and disappear.""
Then Ethan's voice.
"Is this a setup?""
Marcus frowned.
The recording continued.
"Your father doesn't need to know everything.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
Ethan folded his arms.
"Keep watching.""
On the screen, I moved toward him. He stepped backward.
Then came the sound of fabric ripping.
Marcus stopped breathing.
He watched me tear my own dress.
He watched me knock over the glass.
He watched me slap my cheek.
And finally, he watched me scream.
"Get away from me!""
The room became painfully quiet.
Marcus replayed the last thirty seconds.
Then he looked at me.
"Vanessa?""
I swallowed.
"Darling, I can explain.""
"Explain what?""
I looked toward Ethan.
He was no longer smiling.
"He's been harassing me for months," I said.
"I was frightened. I didn't know what else to do.""
Ethan shook his head.
"That's not what happened.""
Marcus looked back at the screen.
"Did he touch you?""
"No," I whispered.
"But he was threatening me.""
"Where?""
"He was standing too close.""
Ethan laughed in disbelief.
"Standing too close? You offered me three hundred thousand dollars to leave!""
Marcus turned toward me.
"Why did you have that much cash?""
I lowered my eyes.
"It was money I withdrew from my personal account.""
"Three hundred thousand dollars?""
"I thought Ethan might accept it and finally leave us alone.""
Ethan stepped forward.
"Tell him why you wanted me gone.""
I looked up sharply.
"Don't.""
"Tell him about the company.""
Marcus frowned.
"What company?""
Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded document.
"Your company. The one she's been trying to get control of.""
My fingers went cold.
Marcus took the paper.
"What is this?""
"An ownership transfer request," Ethan replied.
"It was submitted three weeks ago. Someone tried to change the beneficiary information on Dad's investment holding company.""
Marcus examined the document.
"Why are you showing me this?""
"Because the person who submitted it used your wife's authorization.""
I forced a laugh.
"That's ridiculous.""
Ethan turned toward me.
"Is it?""
Marcus looked at the signature.
Then he looked at me.
"Vanessa, is this your signature?""
I stared at the paper.
It was.
Or at least, it looked like mine.
"I've signed hundreds of documents since marrying you. I don't remember this one.""
Marcus's voice dropped.
"That's not an answer.""
I felt something dangerous happening.
For eighteen months, I had controlled every conversation in this house. I knew when to cry, when to smile, and when to make Marcus feel needed.
But Ethan had just introduced something I hadn't prepared for.
Evidence.
"Marcus," I whispered, "your son has been trying to turn you against me since the day we married.""
Ethan shook his head.
"I didn't need to turn you against her. I just needed you to look.""
Marcus stared at the screen again.
"Everyone upstairs. Both of you.""
"Dad—"
"Now, Ethan.""
Ethan hesitated.
Then he looked directly at me.
"Enjoy tonight, Vanessa.""
He walked out.
I waited until his footsteps disappeared before turning toward Marcus.
"Baby, I know this looks terrible.""
He didn't answer.
I reached for his hand.
He pulled it away.
That small movement hurt more than I expected.
"Do you believe him?"" I asked.
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
"I don't know what I believe anymore.""
I leaned closer.
"After everything we've been through?""
He looked at me.
"That's exactly what I'm trying to understand.""
Then he picked up the money and examined the bundles.
"One more thing," he said.
My heart stopped.
"Where did you get the cash?""
I forced a smile.
"I told you. My personal account.""
Marcus turned one bundle over.
A small paper band was wrapped around it.
It carried the name of his private bank.
His private bank.
Not mine.
"Vanessa," he said slowly, "this money came from an account I haven't accessed in six months.""
I couldn't speak.
He looked at the torn dress, the broken glass, and finally the security footage.
May you like
Then he asked the question I had spent eighteen months making sure he would never ask.
"Why does my money have your fingerprints all over it?""
