Chapter 4 - The Unmasking of the PastTwo days after my removal from the company, I sat inside a small, rented hotel room on the outskirts of Chicago, surrounded by empty coffee cups and legal files.
My private accounts were frozen, my cars were repossessed, and my high-society friends had vanished into thin air, refusing to take my calls.
Knock. Knock.
I scrambled to the door, opening it frantically, expecting a lawyer or a private investigator.
Standing in the hallway was Marcus Vance—the chief of private security whom I had paid five hundred thousand dollars a year to protect my assets.
"Marcus!" I gasped, grabbing his coat sleeve. "Tell me you found her! Where is Claire living?! What is her new address?!"
Marcus gently, firmly removed my hand from his sleeve, looking down at me with a quiet, icy disdain.
"I didn't come here to give you her address, Daniel," Marcus said flatly. "I came to return your personal belongings from the penthouse."
He set a small leather box flat onto the table.
"Marcus, please!" I pleaded, tears of pure, desperate terror welling in my eyes. "I'm willing to give up the remaining shares! I just want to talk to her! I want to ask her why she stayed for nine years if she hated me so much!"
Marcus looked at me for five long seconds, then let out a cold, humorless breath.
"She didn't hate you, Daniel," Marcus revealed softly. "When she married you nine years ago, she genuinely loved you. She believed you were a man of honor."
He opened the small leather box, pulling out a yellowed, faded photograph from nine years ago—a picture of Claire and me standing on the porch of her father's small lake house in Maine, smiling under the summer sun before I had a single dollar to my name.
"Four years ago," Marcus continued, "when your company faced bankruptcy during the supply chain crisis, Claire secretly pledged her father's entire estate as collateral to secure your bank loans. She saved your life, Daniel. And while she was risking everything for you, you were opening offshore accounts and buying diamond bracelets for analysts in New York."
My blood ran completely, horrifyingly cold.
I stared at the photograph, my hands trembling violently as tears finally spilled over my lashes, tracking down my hollow cheeks.
"She... she saved my company...?" I whispered, my voice breaking into a ragged, pathetic sob.
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"She saved you," Marcus corrected coldly. "And then she watched you become the very monster her father warned her about. You didn't lose your wife yesterday, Daniel. You lost her four years ago."
Marcus turned on his heel, exiting the room, slamming the door shut behind him, leaving me standing alone in the dark with my faded photograph and my shattered ego.
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