Chapter 4 - The Game of ShadowsThe hallway felt twice as long as it usually did, the antique portraits of stern-faced Vancestaring down at me with painted eyes that seemed to mock my desperation.
As I reached the top of the grand staircase, a shadow detached itself from the alcove near the library.
“Going somewhere, Lauren?”
Ethan’s voice was cool, stripped of any marital warmth, carrying the chilling cadence of a stranger. He stood leaning against the wooden banister, his hands tucked casually into his trouser pockets, blocking my only path down to the foyer.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my hand instinctively pressing against the hidden zipper pocket holding the micro-SD card.
“I wasn’t feeling well, Ethan,” I said, forcing my voice to remain remarkably steady, mimicking the groggy cadence of someone waking from a heavy sleep. “I came down to get some fresh air. Where are your parents?”
Ethan let out a dry, mirthless laugh. He stepped closer, the faint scent of stale tobacco and expensive cologne wafting off him.
“You never were a very good actress, Lauren,” he murmured, his eyes narrowing. “Even when you’re cornered, you try to calculate the angles. Dad and Victor went down to the study to finalize the wire transfers. And I stayed up here to make sure my brilliant wife didn’t wander into places she shouldn't be.”
“How long?” I asked quietly, the pretense of ignorance dropping away like a shattered mask. “How long have you been playing me, Ethan? Was any of it real? Did you ever love me at all?”
Ethan’s expression hardened into something resembling genuine cruelty.
“Love?” he scoffed softly. “Love is a luxury for people who don’t inherit empires, Lauren. When Dad and I spotted you at that accounting firm five years ago, you were the perfect mark. Sharp, incredibly meticulous, completely dedicated to the rules. We needed someone inside the municipal auditing bureau who could validate our zoning permits without asking dangerous questions.”
“So you married me just to use my professional credentials as a shield for your money laundering?” I hissed, the bitter betrayal burning hot in my throat.
“At first, yes,” Ethan admitted smoothly, stepping within arm’s reach. “It was supposed to be a quiet arrangement. You sign the compliance reports, we fund a comfortable life for you in Seattle, everyone wins. But then you had to go and dig deeper into the waterfront project. You found the discrepancy in the stormwater management ledger. You almost ruined five years of meticulous planning in a single week.”
“And poisoning me?” I demanded, glaring up into his cold, familiar eyes. “Photographing me? Framing me to sign away my own assets?”
“That was Dad’s insurance policy,” Ethan replied, showing not an ounce of remorse. “Once the municipal authorities discover the financial fraud, the trail has to lead somewhere, darling. And who better to take the fall than a brilliant, ambitious auditor who ‘mysteriously’ went rogue, embezzled millions, and fled the country?”
He reached out, his hand darting toward my jacket pocket where my handbag strap hung over my shoulder.
“Hand over the phone, Lauren,” Ethan ordered, his voice dropping an octave. “And whatever else you recorded tonight. If you cooperate now, I might convince Dad to let you take a plea deal instead of burying you under the jail.”
He was fast, but desperation is a powerful catalyst.
Instead of pulling away, I lunged forward, slamming the heavy leather base of my handbag directly into his face.
May you like
Ethan grunted in surprise, stumbling backward against the wooden banister as his nose began to bleed.
I didn't wait to see if he recovered. I turned on my heel and sprinted down the hallway toward the service staircase at the back of the mansion—the one route the Vancestook for granted that no guest would ever use.
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