The Files
The morning after the wedding-that-never-was, Arthur’s private study smelled of strong coffee and tension. Three men sat around the massive mahogany desk: Arthur, his longtime lawyer Marcus Hale, and a discreet private investigator named Daniel Crowe who had worked for the Vance family for over a decade.
Daniel placed a thick black folder on the desk. “We decrypted everything on the tablet and cross-referenced it with old records. It’s worse than we thought.”
Arthur opened the folder slowly.
The first pages showed bank transfers from shell companies Victoria had created under three different aliases. Then came photographs — grainy but clear — of Victoria meeting with men whose companies later collapsed. One man had taken his own life after she blackmailed him with fabricated evidence of an affair. Another had lost his entire family fortune and was now living in a homeless shelter in Chicago.
But the last set of documents made Arthur’s blood run cold.
They were police reports from five years ago — the night Elena Vance died. The original report mentioned a witness who saw a dark sedan force Elena’s car off the road. That witness had later recanted, claiming he was “mistaken.” The new documents showed a wire transfer of $250,000 made to that witness’s sister three days after the recantation. The money had come from a company Victoria once controlled.
Arthur closed the folder. His hands were perfectly steady, but his voice was not.
“She killed my wife,” he said quietly. “And then she tried to become her.”
Marcus Hale leaned forward. “We can have her charged with murder, Arthur. Or at the very least, conspiracy to commit murder. The statute of limitations hasn’t run out on the financial crimes. We can destroy her.”
Arthur stood and walked to the tall window overlooking the east gardens. Julian was outside with Clara, throwing a tennis ball for the new golden retriever puppy they had brought home that morning. The boy’s laughter drifted up faintly through the glass.
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“I don’t want revenge,” Arthur said after a long moment. “I want my son to grow up without fear. I want him to know that the people who hurt him will never hurt him again. Do whatever is necessary to make sure she never sees the outside of a prison cell until Julian is old enough to decide for himself whether he wants to forgive her.”
He turned back to the two men. “And I want an annulment filed today. She was never my wife. She was never Julian’s mother. Erase every legal trace of her from this family.”
