Chapter 7 - The Marriage That Never Existed
I went home and looked at our wedding photographs.
Six years of memories became crime-scene photographs.
Grant proposing beneath cherry blossoms.
Grant crying as I walked down the aisle.
Grant promising my father he would protect me.
Had any of it been real?
Daniel didn't let me drown in the question.
“Whether he loved you doesn't matter to the evidence.”
“It matters to me.”
“I know.”
For the first time, his voice softened.
Daniel told me Dad had investigated Grant before the wedding.
Nothing obvious appeared.
That was the problem.
Grant's identity was too clean.
Dad remained suspicious.
But I was in love.
And Marcus Vale had refused to become the controlling father who destroyed his daughter's happiness.
So he watched.
For six years.
Then he found the first shell company.
I cried harder reading that than I had at the funeral.
Dad had known.
And he had protected my happiness until he had enough proof to protect my life.
The formal will reading was rescheduled.
Celeste became impatient.
Grant became affectionate.
Too affectionate.
That evening, he brought me wine.
I stared at the glass.
My father's last dinner flashed through my mind.
“I don't want it.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
His smile disappeared.
Only for a second.
I pretended not to notice.
Later, I poured the wine into a sterile container Daniel had given me.
Laboratory testing found a sedative.
Not enough to kill me.
Enough to make me confused.
Enough to make me fail a psychiatric assessment.
They didn't need my death.
They needed my credibility.
That changed our plan.
We wouldn't confront them.
May you like
We would let them finish.
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