Chapter 3: The Photograph Revealed My Wife Had Planned Everything Before Marriage
Chapter 3: The Photograph Revealed My Wife Had Planned Everything Before Marriage
I stared at the photograph until the faces began to blur.
Lauren.
Brandon.
And Michael.
My business partner.
The three people standing together in that picture looked completely comfortable.
Like they had known each other for years.
But that was impossible.
At least, that was what I had believed.
Michael had been my partner for almost eight years.
He had stood beside me when I started the company.
He had helped me through our first major contract.
He had even given a speech at my wedding.
And Lauren had always called him “family.”
I suddenly understood why.
She hadn’t been referring to him as my family.
She had been referring to him as theirs.
I looked at the man standing in my living room.
“Where did you get this?”
“From someone who doesn’t want to be found.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting tonight.”
I held the photograph tighter.
“When was this taken?”
“Five years ago.”
I looked at him.
“My wife and I have been married for four years.”
“Exactly.”
I felt something twist in my stomach.
“Then Lauren knew Brandon before we met.”
“She did.”
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
The man reached into his jacket again.
This time he pulled out a thin folder.
“Before you married Lauren, Brandon and Michael were already working together.”
“Working together on what?”
“Your company.”
I shook my head.
“Michael didn’t even know Brandon.”
The man gave me a strange look.
“That’s what you were supposed to believe.”
He opened the folder.
Inside were several old photographs.
Brandon entering my company’s first office.
Michael meeting him in a parking garage.
Lauren sitting across from both of them at a restaurant.
I felt my jaw tighten.
“Where was I?”
“Not there.”
“Why?”
“Because they didn’t want you there.”
I looked at another photograph.
It showed Lauren handing an envelope to Michael.
On the back was a date.
Three months before my wedding.
I remembered that period.
Lauren had been stressed.
She had told me wedding planning was overwhelming.
She had even cried one night because she thought I was working too much.
I had held her and apologized.
Now I wondered what she had actually been crying about.
I looked at the stranger.
“What are they planning?”
He hesitated.
“Your company.”
“That’s not enough.”
“Your company is worth more than you realize.”
“I know what it’s worth.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You know what it looks like on paper.”
He pointed at the documents.
“I know what it controls.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Your company has access to a private network used by several major contractors.”
I stared at him.
“So?”
“So someone has been using your company to move information.”
My stomach dropped.
“Information?”
“Contracts. Bids. Financial records.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Industrial espionage?”
He didn’t answer directly.
“Call it whatever you want.”
I stepped closer.
“And Lauren is involved?”
“She’s been helping them.”
“How?”
“She handles administrative records.”
That explained the payments.
The strange reimbursements.
The late nights.
The documents.
But there was still one thing I couldn’t understand.
“Why me?”
The man looked at me.
“That’s the question you should have been asking from the beginning.”
I waited.
He continued.
“Your company wasn’t supposed to become successful.”
“What?”
“Michael expected to control it.”
I felt a cold sensation run through me.
“Control it how?”
“Debt.”
He opened another document.
“When you started the company, Michael arranged several loans through people he knew.”
I shook my head.
“I signed those loans.”
“Yes.”
“Because he told me they were necessary.”
“They were.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The interest rates.”
I looked down.
The numbers meant nothing at first.
Then I saw the final amount.
If the loans were called in at the same time, I would lose almost everything.
My house.
My company.
My investments.
Everything.
I looked up.
“But I’ve paid them.”
“Some.”
He pointed at another page.
“Others were refinanced.”
“By who?”
“Companies connected to Brandon.”
I stepped backward.
Suddenly, the entire relationship between them made sense.
They didn’t want to steal my company directly.
They wanted to make me dependent on them.
Then force a collapse.
But there was still one piece missing.
“Why marry me?”
The man looked at me for a long moment.
Then he said something I wasn’t prepared to hear.
“Because Lauren needed access to your personal finances.”
I felt sick.
“My bank accounts?”
“Your investments. Your insurance. Your property.”
“She couldn’t access those.”
“Not directly.”
He pointed toward the stairs.
“But she could if you trusted her.”
I thought about every document Lauren had asked me to sign.
Every time she said, “I’ll handle the paperwork.”
Every time she had asked for my passwords.
Every time she had told me it was easier if everything was under one account.
I had never questioned her.
She was my wife.
Why would I?
The stranger looked at me.
“Did Lauren ever ask you to sign a power of attorney?”
My blood went cold.
Once.
Two years ago.
She had said it was for emergencies.
I had signed it.
I hadn’t even read the entire document.
I closed my eyes.
“Oh God.”
“What?”
“I gave her one.”
The man nodded.
“Then she has exactly what they need.”
I immediately reached for my phone.
I called my attorney.
No answer.
I called again.
Still nothing.
Then I tried Michael.
The call went straight to voicemail.
I looked at the time.
2:42 a.m.
Nobody would answer.
Except Lauren.
My phone rang.
Her name appeared on the screen.
I froze.
The stranger stared at it.
“Don’t answer.”
“Why?”
“Because she wants to know whether you’re home.”
The phone continued ringing.
Then stopped.
A second later, a message appeared.
Where are you?
I didn’t respond.
Another message.
I just woke up.
Then:
Something feels wrong.
I stared at the screen.
She knew.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
I looked at the staircase.
“We have to leave.”
The stranger shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because the documents are still upstairs.”
I frowned.
“What documents?”
“The ones Brandon came here for.”
I understood.
Lauren had hidden something in the house.
Something worth $75,000.
Something they needed badly enough to risk bringing Brandon into our bedroom while they believed I was gone.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know they’re here?”
“Because Brandon told someone.”
I stared at him.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
My phone suddenly buzzed.
A new message.
Not from Lauren.
Not from the investigator.
From Michael.
Don’t trust the man you’re with.
I showed it to the stranger.
He read the message.
Then smiled.
“Good.”
I stared at him.
“Good?”
“Now we know Michael is watching us.”
Before I could respond, footsteps sounded upstairs.
Slow.
Careful.
Someone was awake.
I reached for the light switch.
The stranger grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if it’s Lauren, she thinks you’re still gone.”
The footsteps stopped.
Then Lauren’s voice drifted down the staircase.
“Brandon?”
No answer.
She called again.
“Brandon, where are you?”
I looked at the stranger.
He pointed toward the kitchen.
We moved silently into the shadows.
Then Lauren appeared at the top of the stairs.
She wasn’t alone.
Brandon stood behind her.
And in his hand was a small black case.
The same case I had hidden beneath the kitchen sink.
I felt my heart stop.
They had found it.
But that wasn’t what terrified me.
Because Lauren was holding something else.
A gun.
She pointed it toward the dark hallway and whispered,
“Come out.”
Then she said my name.
“I know you’re home, sweetheart.”