That’s what she called him in public.
Six months earlier, I had already uncovered the truth—hotel receipts, late-night “family emergencies,” hidden messages. I had seen the way she smirked at me across the dinner table while Marcus squeezed my hand as if I were too blind to notice.
When I confronted him, he laughed.
“Don’t be dramatic, Elena,” he said. “You’d have nothing without me.”
That lie again.
What he never knew was that the house belonged to me. The investments were mine. Even the malpractice insurance for his private clinic—the one he begged me to help arrange—was under my control.
And when he secretly started moving money, I had already taken steps ahead of him.
Now he lay pale beneath the hospital lights, shaking, vulnerable. Vanessa’s eyes finally met mine.
“Elena…” she whispered.
Marcus turned his head, fear filling his expression.
For complete preparation instructions, go to the next page or click the Open button (>). Don't forget to SHARE with your friends on Facebook.
