Chapter 2 - My Husband Thought He Married the Heiress—He Had No Idea He Married His Biggest ThreatI didn't sleep that night.
Neither did Olivia.
We drove back to Silver Creek Estate without confronting anyone.
Every instinct in my body screamed at me to storm into the villa.
To demand answers.
To throw my wedding ring into Nate’s face.
But rage was expensive when spent too early.
At 3:17 a.m., I sat in my bridal suite wearing sweatpants beneath a hotel robe while Olivia paced in front of the fireplace.
“Your uncle.”
“Yes.”
“Your actual uncle.”
“Yes.”
“The man who gave you a Waterford crystal bowl every Christmas because apparently he has never met another gift.”
“Yes.”
“He's helping your husband steal your company.”
“Apparently.”
Olivia stopped.
“And who sent the message?”
“I don't know.”
“That's becoming a problem.”
I looked at the photograph again.
Whoever sent it had been close enough to photograph our car.
Close enough to know why we were there.
Maybe close enough to kill us.
At 4:02, Nate returned.
I heard the suite door.
“Ava?”
I closed my eyes.
Olivia had already left through the adjoining room.
Nate entered the bedroom.
He smelled faintly of wine.
And another woman's perfume.
I pretended to wake.
“You're back.”
“Sorry.”
He kissed my forehead.
“Singapore?”
“Disaster.”
“Did you fix it?”
“I always do.”
He undressed beside me.
I watched him in the darkness.
My husband.
A stranger.
“Come here,” he whispered.
Every muscle in my body resisted.
I forced myself to move closer.
He wrapped his arm around me.
“Mrs. Harrison.”
My stomach turned.
“Mr. Harrison.”
He fell asleep within minutes.
I remained awake until sunrise.
At eight, my father arrived.
Nate was downstairs speaking with guests who had stayed overnight.
I showed Dad the photograph.
His face hardened when he saw his brother.
“Daniel.”
“You knew he opposed you.”
“I knew he wanted more control. I didn't know he'd sell us to Harrison.”
“Why?”
Dad sat down.
“Our father left me forty-two percent.”
“And Daniel?”
“Twenty-one.”
I knew that.
What I didn't know was the rest.
“Daniel believed the company should have been divided equally.”
“Grandpa made you CEO.”
“And Daniel never forgave him.”
Dad stared at the photograph.
“He's waited thirty years.”
“For revenge?”
“For ownership.”
I thought about Nate's plan.
My shares.
Daniel’s shares.
Harrison financing.
Together, they could challenge Dad’s control.
“Who's Sophia?”
Dad didn't know.
That became our first task.
Within forty-eight hours, Olivia found her.
Sophia Laurent.
Thirty-four.
Wharton MBA.
Former mergers-and-acquisitions attorney.
Current managing director at Blackwell Strategic Capital.
And six years earlier?
She had worked for Harrison Venture Holdings.
Not a mistress accidentally involved in a takeover.
An architect.
Sophia had helped design it.
The affair was simply an additional benefit.
For the next three weeks, I played newlywed.
I posted photographs.
Attended dinners.
Kissed Nate in public.
And quietly dismantled his plan.
Dad created a shadow voting trust.
Martin Kessler reviewed every clause of my prenup.
Olivia traced Sophia's financial connections.
And I did what Nate had always underestimated.
I watched.
Nate became careless.
He took calls around me.
Left documents open.
Mentioned names.
He believed I was still the woman who trusted him.
One night, he left his tablet on the kitchen counter.
The screen lit up.
SOPHIA: D says the board numbers are almost there. We need Ava's signature before November 15.
D.
Daniel.
I photographed it.
Then another message appeared.
NATE: She'll sign.
Sophia responded.
You sound confident.
Nate:
She loves me.
I stared at those three words.
Not she trusts me.
Not she agrees.
She loves me.
My love was still his business strategy.
I turned off the screen.
The next morning, Nate brought me coffee.
“You're quiet.”
“Work.”
“Anything I can help with?”
I smiled.
“Actually, yes.”
His attention sharpened.
I handed him a folder.
The joint investment vehicle.
Exactly what he wanted.
His eyes brightened.
“Ava.”
“I've been thinking.”
I touched his hand.
“If we're really building a life together, maybe I should stop separating everything into mine and yours.”
He stared at me.
I watched greed hide behind affection.
“I don't want you to feel pressured.”
Beautiful performance.
“I don't.”
I kissed him.
“I trust you.”
For the first time, lying to him felt easy.
That frightened me.
Two days later, he signed.
What Nate didn't know was that Martin had rewritten the document.
Hidden among thirty-seven pages was a fiduciary disclosure requirement.
Any attempt by Nate to coordinate voting influence with an undisclosed third party would automatically terminate his proxy authority and trigger a forensic audit.
Nate signed without reading it.
Because he trusted me.
The irony almost made me smile.
Then everything changed.
Olivia called me at 1:13 in the morning.
“Ava.”
Her voice was shaking.
“What happened?”
“Someone broke into my apartment.”
I sat upright.
“Are you there?”
“No.”
“Where are you?”
“Police station.”
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“What did they take?”
Silence.
“Olivia?”
“Nothing.”
That was worse.
“They didn't steal anything?”
“They opened my laptop.”
My heart dropped.
“They know.”
“Yes.”
We had become dangerous.
The next morning, Nate was unusually attentive.
“Bad sleep?”
“Olivia called.”
His coffee cup stopped halfway to his mouth.
“Why?”
“Someone broke into her apartment.”
“Jesus.”
Concern.
Perfectly performed.
“Is she okay?”
“Yes.”
“Did they take anything?”
There.
Too quickly.
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Just asking.”
“Nothing.”
His shoulders relaxed almost invisibly.
I filed that away.
That afternoon, I met Uncle Daniel.
He believed the meeting was accidental.
I arranged it.
We were both attending a museum foundation luncheon.
“Ava.”
He kissed my cheek.
“Married life suits you.”
“Does it?”
“Absolutely.”
I smiled.
“You always liked Nate.”
Daniel hesitated.
“I think he's ambitious.”
“So are you.”
He laughed.
“Montgomery blood.”
I studied him.
“Do you ever wish Grandpa had divided the company differently?”
His smile disappeared.
“Why would you ask that?”
“No reason.”
“Ava.”
“Yes?”
“Be careful.”
“With what?”
“Trust.”
I nearly laughed.
Instead, I asked:
“Did you trust my mother?”
Daniel went still.
My mother had died from ovarian cancer.
At least that was what I believed.
Daniel looked away.
“Your mother was complicated.”
“She hated you.”
“Ava.”
“She did.”
I remembered arguments behind closed doors.
My mother insisting Daniel should never be allowed access to certain corporate records.
I had assumed it was family politics.
“What did Mom know?”
Daniel stood.
“This isn't the place.”
“Then choose one.”
His face became hard.
“You should stop asking questions.”
That was the first time he frightened me.
Not because he threatened me.
Because he sounded like someone who had made threats before.
That evening, another anonymous message arrived.
Your mother discovered Daniel's first attempt to sell Montgomery eleven years ago.
A file followed.
An old memorandum.
My mother's signature.
Daniel's.
And another name.
Charles Harrison.
Nate's father.
Eleven years earlier.
The conspiracy had existed long before Nate met me.
I read the memorandum twice.
Then I reached the final page.
My mother had handwritten a note.
Robert cannot know until I have proof. Daniel is moving money through offshore entities connected to Harrison. If anything happens to me, protect Ava.
My hands began shaking.
My mother had been diagnosed with cancer six months later.
Coincidence?
Probably.
Maybe.
But suddenly I questioned everything.
Then my phone rang.
Sophia Laurent.
I stared at her name.
I had never given her my number.
I answered.
“Ava?”
Her voice was calm.
Beautiful.
“Hello, Sophia.”
Silence.
She hadn't expected that.
“You know who I am.”
“I know enough.”
Another pause.
Then:
“We need to meet.”
“Why?”
“Because Nate lied to both of us.”
I laughed.
“I'm having difficulty finding sympathy.”
“You shouldn't have sympathy.”
Her voice dropped.
“You should have a gun.”
I became still.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your uncle is moving the takeover forward.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Sophia sounded frightened now.
“You know the corporate plan.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“You don't know what happens to you after they get your shares.”
“Tell me.”
Sophia inhaled.
“The divorce was never the final stage.”
I waited.
“Ava, there isn't supposed to be a divorce.”
Cold moved through my body.
“What is supposed to happen?”
May you like
Sophia answered quietly.
“An accident.”
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