Chapter 2

"So what?" Chelsea replied, amusement lacing her voice. "You sacrificed the baby you made with her so we could have one of our own."

Her words seemed to freeze the air around me.

I stood rooted to the hallway floor, one hand pressed tightly over my lips to stop the cry threatening to escape. Every muscle in my body tensed as I silently begged Caleb to tell her she was lying. I waited for outrage, for disbelief, for him to defend our child and call Chelsea insane.

He did neither.

Instead, he chuckled.

The sound was quiet, almost amused, and it sent a wave of ice through my veins.

"Why would I feel guilty?" he said. "Getting rid of that fetus solved a problem."

My legs nearly gave out beneath me. I caught myself against the wall before I hit the floor.

"I never wanted that baby," Caleb went on as calmly as if he were discussing quarterly profits. "Children complicate everything. They create custody issues, emotional baggage, unnecessary attachments. If Natalie bonded with the kid, she'd fight harder to keep the house. That wasn't a risk I was willing to take. It wasn't difficult, anyway. I slipped medication into her breakfast smoothies every morning for a week. Strong enough doses. The miscarriage happened exactly as planned."

The hallway tilted.

My stomach lurched so violently I thought I would be sick.

He had been poisoning me.

Every loving smile across the breakfast table, every kiss on my forehead, every reminder to finish my smoothie because it was "good for the baby" had all been part of the act.

"Our child..."

No.

He had murdered our child.

"If I had my way," Caleb added with an exasperated sigh, "I'd eliminate Natalie too. One unfortunate accident would make life much simpler. Unfortunately, the timing isn't right."

Chelsea sounded curious rather than horrified.

"What's stopping you? She's defenseless right now."

"The trust," Caleb answered impatiently. "If she dies today, everything is locked away until there's a legal heir or the estate eventually passes to charity. Her parents planned for every possibility. But if she's declared mentally unstable first and signs power of attorney over to me, I gain complete control. Before anything else, I need ownership transferred into my hands. She has to be emotionally destroyed before she dies."

"And after that?" Chelsea asked eagerly. "You'll finally marry me?"

Caleb laughed softly.

"Wasn't that always the plan? You've been the only woman I've ever wanted, Care. Natalie was never anything more than a means to an end. I tolerated five years of pretending to be the perfect husband because the payoff was worth it."

Something inside me broke beyond repair.

I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing back another wave of nausea.

Five years.

Five years of lies.

My mind drifted backward despite myself.

I was only seventeen when I first met Caleb.

A nervous freshman wandering through the university library, still lonely from rarely seeing my parents because they were constantly overseas for business. He accidentally dropped an armful of books near my table, and I knelt to help gather them.

When our eyes met, he smiled and told me I was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

He wore faded clothes and worked multiple part-time jobs just to stay enrolled. I thought his determination was admirable. I convinced myself he loved me for who I was, not for the family fortune attached to my last name.

I remembered cheap dates in public parks because restaurants were beyond his budget.

I remembered defending him whenever friends hinted he wasn't right for me.

I remembered believing we were creating a future together from absolutely nothing.

Then there was Chelsea.

We'd been best friends since high school.

She was more like family than a friend—the sister life had never given me.

When Caleb entered my life, she encouraged the relationship from the very beginning. Whenever people questioned his motives, she insisted they were jealous. On my wedding day, she stood beside me, helping straighten my dress moments before I walked down the aisle.

I had always believed she was protecting my happiness.

Now I understood.

She hadn't stolen my husband after the wedding.

They had been deceiving me together from the very beginning.

I wasn't his wife.

I was his target.

A painful memory surfaced with startling clarity.

It was the final conversation I ever had with my parents before they died.

Three years earlier, just weeks before my wedding, my father had called me into his study while my mother stood quietly near the window.

Neither of them looked happy.

"Natalie," my father began, his expression unusually serious, "your mother and I can't support this marriage."

Anger flared immediately.

"Because Caleb isn't wealthy?" I demanded. "Because he didn't grow up like we did?"

My mother slowly turned toward me.

"Money has nothing to do with it," she said gently. "We hired investigators. His past doesn't add up. He's the kind of man who becomes whatever people want him to be. Beneath that mask, there's nothing except ambition. He doesn't see you as someone to love. He sees you as something to consume."

"That's ridiculous!" I shouted. "You're judging him because he comes from nothing!"

My father struck the desk with his palm.

"Listen carefully. Don't trust that man. If you insist on marrying him, never combine your assets with his. Keep Prescott Incorporated entirely in your name. Promise me."

I never gave him that promise.

Instead, I stormed out.

Two weeks later, the plane carrying my parents disappeared over the Atlantic Ocean.

Everything they owned became mine.

Crushed by grief, I leaned on the only two people I believed still loved me.

Caleb.

Chelsea.

How unbelievably blind I had been.

"I can't wait until I'm finally Mrs. Caleb Kane," Chelsea said with a delighted laugh.

Their laughter echoed through the house and pulled me back to the present.

For one reckless moment, I imagined charging into the room.

I could confront them.

I could scream until the walls shook.

I could grab the nearest knife and make them answer for what they'd done.

But then what?

Caleb had been right about one thing.

I was still recovering.

Weak.

Outnumbered.

A physical fight was exactly what they would expect.

No.

If I wanted to destroy them, I had to beat them where it would hurt the most.

I inhaled slowly, forcing my heartbeat to settle.

Step by careful step, I backed away until I reached the master bedroom.

The tears had stopped.

The moment Caleb confessed to murdering our child, grief had given way to something far colder.

Resolve.

I picked up my phone and dialed a number from memory.

It rang twice.

"Miss Natalie?" Bernard answered.

His rough voice brought an unexpected sense of relief.

For over three decades, he had managed my parents' estate. Though everyone called him our butler, he had always been far more than that. He was the only person I trusted without question.

"Madam," he said, concern replacing his usual composure. "I thought you were still hospitalized. Has something happened?"

"I need Protocol Zero activated immediately."

There was a brief silence.

When Bernard spoke again, his tone had become all business.

"You're aware that will suspend company operations, notify the board, and trigger emergency protection of every major asset."

"I know exactly what it does."

"Very well."

"I want every dollar moved out of our accessible accounts. Transfer the house into the trust. Reassign ownership of every vehicle. Empty every joint account we have. Move everything into the Cayman holding company. If necessary, use your name as temporary custodian. I don't care how it's done. Just make sure Caleb can't touch a single cent."

"You mean Mr. Kane?"

"Yes."

I glanced toward the bedroom door before lowering my voice.

"He must not discover anything until every transfer has been completed."

Bernard paused.

"May I ask why?"

My gaze settled on the framed wedding photograph beside the bed.

Caleb's smiling face stared back at me.

Every inch of it was a lie.

"I'm divorcing my husband," I said quietly.

"And when this is over, he'll leave my life with the same amount he brought into it."

"Absolutely nothing."