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I was about to marry my much-younger mistress—until my three-year-old grandson handed me a USB drive and exposed the terrifying truth about my bride.

PART 2

I closed the laptop, but I didn’t unlock the door.

“Thomas, what are you doing in there?” Evelyn called out, her voice straining to sound pleasant.

“Changing my tie.”

“You’ve changed it twice already!”

“Then this will be the third time.”

For illustrative purposes only

Silence lingered outside, followed by the hard, sharp click of her heels retreating down the hall.

I immediately dialed Genevieve’s phone. No answer. I called again. Nothing. Finally, I dialed my sister, Sarah.

“Is Genevieve with you?” I demanded.

There was a long, heavy pause on the line that made my chest tighten. “Yes.”

“Put her on.”

“She’s sleeping, Thomas.”

“Toby told me Evelyn put her hands on her.”

Sarah let out a shaky breath she seemed to have been holding for hours. “You need to come here.”

“Tell me what happened, Sarah.”

“Not over the phone.”

“Sarah!”

My sister’s voice cracked. “Genevieve came to my house at two in the morning. Her lip was split, her wrist was swollen, and she was terrified you wouldn’t believe her. She said Evelyn came to her apartment.”

I closed my eyes, squeezing the bridge of my nose. “Why?”

“Because Genevieve found out about the money. And she found out even more.”

Sarah explained that Genevieve had been suspicious for months. Evelyn had been pushing aggressively for us to combine our assets immediately after the wedding. She kept asking about the deed to my estate, my estate trust, and the private investments I had built over thirty years as owner of my logistics firm.

Genevieve had run a private background check and discovered that Evelyn hadn’t been widowed once, as she claimed. She had been married twice before. Her second marriage in Texas had ended in a messy civil lawsuit involving hidden debts and forged signatures.

“She didn’t serve prison time,” Sarah whispered, “but her ex-husband accused her of completely draining a joint trust.”

A profound wave of shame washed over me. “And the documents on the drive?”

“Evelyn initiated a commercial credit application using your estate as collateral. Genevieve thinks she was going to push you to sign a power of attorney on Monday during your honeymoon.”

Down the hallway, the wedding string quartet began playing the entrance procession.

I called Marcus, my oldest friend, a retired police detective, and my best man. “Get to my dressing room. Now.”

Four minutes later, Marcus walked in. He took one look at my face and skipped the pleasantries. “What’s wrong, Thomas?”

I turned the laptop screen toward him and played the video.

Marcus didn’t even blink. His jaw set into stone. “Don’t confront her alone.”

“I’m going to see my daughter.”

We slipped out through a private side exit. Marcus’s driver navigated through the afternoon traffic toward Sarah’s house while my phone vibrated relentlessly in my hand.

Evelyn was calling. Then came the texts:

Where are you?

Everyone is waiting.

Your daughter is making things up to ruin our day.

I stared at that last message. I hadn’t told her I was going to Genevieve.

Marcus noticed it too. “She knows Toby gave you that drive.”

When we arrived at Sarah’s house, Genevieve was sitting on the couch in sweatpants, her wrist wrapped in a tight brace. Her upper lip was dark and swollen. When she saw me walk through the door, she broke down into tears.

“I’m so sorry, Dad…”

I crossed the room and pulled her into my arms. “No. Forgive me.”

Toby ran to his mother, wrapping his small arms around her waist.

Genevieve handed me her phone. Screened on the display were emails, photos of loan applications, and text exchanges between Evelyn and a man named Julian Sterling.

One message from Evelyn read: Wedding is Saturday. Signatures on Monday. Once the joint trust is executed, we move forward.

Julian had replied: Don’t push him too fast. One suspicious signature ruins everything.

My blood ran cold.

My phone buzzed again with a final text from Evelyn:

If you cancel this wedding, you will regret humiliating me.

Marcus read it over my shoulder. “Keep everything. Save every thread.”

I typed a single sentence back:

The wedding is canceled.

Evelyn replied instantly:

You have no idea what you’ve just started.

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