Chapter 6 - The Woman I Thought I Knew
I wanted Chloe arrested immediately.
Aaron refused.
“We have conspiracy evidence,” he said. “Financial evidence. We have Raymond. But if Victor is the center of this, I want Victor.”
“And Chloe?”
“We'll deal with Chloe.”
I hated how reasonable that sounded.
Saturday morning, I finally ended the coma.
Officially.
Nathan announced that I had regained meaningful consciousness.
Within an hour, the news spread.
Chloe arrived first.
She rushed into my room crying.
“Daniel!”
She threw her arms around me.
I remained still.
She pulled back.
For a fraction of a second, I saw fear behind her relief.
“How much do you remember?”
Interesting first question.
“The crash.”
“Anything after?”
I looked directly into her eyes.
“Voices.”
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“What voices?”
“I don't know.”
She took my hand.
“You've been through so much.”
“So have you, apparently.”
She froze.
I smiled weakly.
“Everyone tells me you've barely left.”
The tension disappeared.
She believed she was safe.
Good.
Victor arrived an hour later.
His performance was almost better.
“Daniel, you stubborn bastard.”
He hugged me.
“I knew you'd come back.”
Did you?
Marcus didn't visit.
According to the official story, he was traveling.
In reality, he was under protection and cooperating with investigators.
For the next two days, I pretended to remember almost nothing.
Chloe relaxed.
Victor became confident again.
And confidence made him careless.
On Monday, Victor suggested I sign temporary management authority while recovering.
I laughed.
“Give me a week.”
His eyes hardened.
Then softened.
“Of course.”
That evening, Chloe sat beside me.
“We should postpone the wedding.”
I studied her.
“Why?”
“You need time.”
“Do you want to postpone it?”
She looked away.
That reaction was real.
“I want you alive.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Tears appeared.
“I don't know what I deserve anymore.”
For one dangerous second, I almost confronted her.
Instead, I said, “Chloe, what happened the night before my crash?”
Her face drained of color.
“What?”
“You were in the garage.”
Silence.
She stood.
“Who told you that?”
There.
No denial.
“Sit down.”
She didn't.
“Daniel—”
“Sit.”
She did.
I looked at the woman I had planned to marry.
“Were you involved?”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
The word barely existed.
I felt something inside me break.
She explained.
Victor had approached her years earlier because her younger sister, Mia, owed enormous medical and personal debts after a failed business and a family crisis.
Victor offered to erase them.
All Chloe had to do was meet me.
Gain my trust.
Encourage certain investments.
She claimed she never expected to love me.
But she did.
She tried to stop.
Victor threatened Mia.
Then threatened Chloe.
“What about my car?”
She covered her face.
“I told him you were going to remove him from the company.”
“How did you know?”
“I heard your call.”
“And?”
“He said if you missed the board meeting, we'd have time.”
“So you suggested sabotaging my car.”
“I suggested disconnecting the ignition.”
I stared at her.
“You still agreed to sabotage my car.”
“Yes.”
“You could have killed me.”
“I didn't know he'd touch the brakes.”
“But you helped him get access.”
She cried harder.
“Yes.”
No excuse could erase that.
Then I asked the question that mattered most.
“Why did you say my money would be yours?”
Her face collapsed.
“Because Victor was listening.”
“What?”
“He had my phone.”
She explained that Victor required her to maintain the performance.
The trust transfer.
The hospital whispers.
The deadline.
He wanted proof she remained committed.
“Why whisper it to me?”
“Because I thought you couldn't hear me.”
“That doesn't answer me.”
She looked at me.
“Because I was angry.”
“At me?”
“At everything. At myself. At him. At what my life had become.”
She wiped her face.
“And because part of me had become the person he trained me to be.”
That answer hurt because it sounded true.
Then she reached into her purse.
“I brought something.”
A small key.
“What is it?”
“Victor's private storage unit.”
“What's inside?”
“I don't know. But he visits it every Thursday night.”
“Why tell me now?”
“Because he knows Marcus talked.”
My blood chilled.
“How?”
“He sent me a message this morning.”
She handed me her phone.
Victor's message contained six words.
MARCUS MADE HIS CHOICE. SO DID YOU.
Then another message arrived while I was holding the phone.
A photograph.
Marcus sitting inside a car.
His hands appeared bound.
Below it:
BRING DANIEL'S ORIGINAL TRUST DOCUMENTS.
May you like
COME ALONE.
And suddenly our investigation had become a rescue.
