Chapter 9 - THE THIRD TRAITOR
Daniel's death changed the investigation from domestic violence to something much larger.
The police discovered Daniel hadn't been killed randomly.
Someone had arranged it.
And whoever did it knew exactly where the investigation was going.
Detective Hayes began looking at everyone.
Including Ryan.
Including his father.
Including me.
Then she discovered something in the trust documents.
A hidden clause.
If Ryan divorced me before the baby was born, the inheritance would transfer.
To Ryan's father.
If Ryan died, it would go to his mother.
And if both parents died...
The entire estate would go to a charitable foundation.
Melissa would get nothing.
Which meant someone had created a complicated plan to make money disappear.
Then Detective Hayes asked the question nobody wanted to answer.
“Who benefits if the trust is destroyed?”
Ryan's father looked at me.
“Daniel's old company.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because if the trust collapses, control returns to the board.”
“And who controls the board?”
He didn't answer.
Detective Hayes did.
“Three investors.”
She placed three photographs on the table.
One was Daniel.
One was Ryan's father.
The third was a man I'd never seen.
Then I recognized him.
He had been at our wedding.
He'd congratulated me.
He'd touched my shoulder.
And he'd said:
“You're very lucky to have married into this family.”
His name was Victor Hale.
Ryan's father's closest friend.
And the chairman of the company board.
Detective Hayes called him in.
Victor arrived calmly.
He denied everything.
Then Detective Hayes showed him the bank transfers.
His expression barely changed.
Until she mentioned Daniel's death.
Then he smiled.
That was when I knew.
He was involved.
But before he could be arrested, his attorney arrived.
And within minutes, Victor was walking away.
Protected by legal technicalities.
That night, I received another message.
This time, there was no photograph.
Only one sentence.
Ask your husband what happened the night your father died.
I stared at the screen.
My father had died six years earlier.
A car accident.
Or so I'd been told.
I looked at Ryan.
He was asleep.
I woke him.
“What happened the night my father died?”
His eyes opened.
He stared at me.
Then he whispered:
“Who told you?”
I felt my heart stop.
May you like
Because he hadn't asked what I meant.
He had asked who told me.
