Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN I THOUGHT I KNEWI found Samantha at the apartment I had paid for.
She opened the door wearing a white robe.
Her face changed when she saw me.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“Who is Hope's father?”
She froze.
“What?”
“Answer me.”
“You're insane.”
“Who is the man in the photograph?”
She stepped backward.
I entered.
“Samantha.”
She began crying.
“I never wanted this.”
“Wanted what?”
“This.”
She pointed toward the apartment.
“The money. The lies. Any of it.”
I felt something break inside me.
“Then tell me.”
She sat on the sofa.
“I met Peter before I met you.”
I stared at her.
“How long?”
“Two years.”
My stomach turned.
“You knew him before we started seeing each other?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She wiped her face.
“He approached me.”
“What did he want?”
“You.”
I couldn't speak.
“He wanted access to your personal accounts. Your passwords. Your habits. Your schedule.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So you were spying on me?”
“At first.”
“And later?”
“I fell in love with you.”
I wanted to hate her.
Instead, I felt disgusted by how easily I had believed what I wanted to believe.
“Did Peter tell you to sleep with me?”
She looked away.
“At first.”
I closed my eyes.
Every memory changed.
Every hotel room.
Every lie.
Every gift.
Every time Samantha said she loved me.
It had all begun as a setup.
But then she said something I didn't expect.
“I stopped working for him.”
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“Then why stay?”
“Because Peter threatened me.”
“With what?”
She looked at me.
“My younger brother.”
I stared.
“He has a gambling problem. Peter bought his debt.”
I understood.
Samantha had been trapped.
But that didn't erase what she had done.
“You destroyed my marriage.”
“I know.”
“You helped him steal from me.”
“I know.”
“You watched Claire suffer.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I tried to warn her.”
“Did you?”
“I sent her the first photograph of Peter meeting the bank officer.”
I froze.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew Peter was going too far.”
She reached into a drawer.
Pulled out a phone.
“This is everything.”
Messages.
Photos.
Bank transfers.
Audio recordings.
Peter had been planning to take control of Carter Logistics by manufacturing evidence of financial misconduct against me.
If the company collapsed, his shell companies would acquire the assets cheaply.
But there was one problem.
Claire had discovered the scheme.
So Peter changed tactics.
He used the affair.
If I divorced Claire, I would lose half the marital assets.
If my company became unstable, I would be distracted.
If Claire looked emotionally unstable, nobody would believe her allegations.
It was elegant.
Cruel.
And almost successful.
I looked at Samantha.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I was scared.”
“So was Claire.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
I left.
Outside, Michael was waiting.
“Did she tell you?”
“Yes.”
“What did you learn?”
“Peter.”
Michael nodded.
“We already knew.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You don't know the worst part.”
“What?”
“Claire isn't just hiding from Peter.”
Michael's expression changed.
“What do you mean?”
“She knows something about my father.”
My father's name had not appeared in the investigation.
He had died when I was twenty-four.
A respected businessman.
At least, that's what I believed.
But Samantha's phone contained an old email.
Peter had written:
Your father's accounts are still accessible.
I stared at the sentence.
My father had been dead for eleven years.
“How?”
Michael looked at me.
“Maybe your father wasn't as innocent as you thought.”
That night, I returned to my father's old office.
It had been locked since his death.
I found the key in a safe deposit box.
Inside, there was almost nothing.
A desk.
A bookshelf.
An old photograph of my parents.
And a wooden box.
I opened it.
Inside was a handwritten ledger.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
My father's handwriting.
At the bottom of the final page was a name I recognized.
Peter Lawson.
Then another.
Samantha Reed.
And beneath them, written in red ink:
If anything happens to me, watch the lights.
I stared at the sentence.
It was the same phrase Claire had used.
Watch the light.
Suddenly, I understood.
Claire hadn't invented the phrase.
She had found it somewhere.
My father's files.
May you like
And if that was true, then the conspiracy against my family hadn't begun eight months ago.
It had begun eleven years earlier.
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