MY HUSBAND'S TRAP CHAPTER 4

A moment later two people entered: Geoffrey’s lead attorney, silver-haired and immaculate even at three in the morning, and Eleanor Smith herself.

Eleanor’s gaze swept over Lottie with open contempt.

“I think that’s enough for tonight, Detective,” the lawyer said smoothly. “My client is clearly exhausted and in shock. She’s given her statement. Any further questioning can wait until she’s had medical evaluation and legal counsel present.”

Reyes looked at Lottie one last time. The kindness was gone, replaced by something colder. Something almost angry.

“She’s protecting him,” he said. “And you’re all letting her.”

Eleanor’s smile was razor-thin. “My daughter-in-law is doing the right thing. Something she should have learned years ago.” She turned to Lottie. “Isn’t that correct, Lottie?”

Lottie lifted her head. The fluorescent lights made Eleanor’s diamonds glitter like ice.

“Yes,” she said. The word felt like swallowing glass. “I was driving.”

Eleanor’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “There. You see, Detective? Confession. Clear. Uncoerced. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have arrangements to make.”

Reyes shook his head slowly. “You’re all going to regret this.”

He left the room.

The lawyer followed, already speaking in low, efficient tones about bail and media strategy.

Eleanor remained.

She walked to the table, rested both hands on the back of the empty chair, and looked down at Lottie the way one might look at a dog that had finally learned to heel.

“You did well,” she said softly. “Better than I expected. Geoffrey will be pleased.”

Lottie’s voice cracked. “He promised me..”

“He promised you a place in this family.” Eleanor laughed softly. “And now you have one. The sacrificial wife who took the fall. How poetic. The press will eat it up. The board will be relieved. And Geoffrey will finally be free to marry someone worthy of the name Smith.”

Lottie’s hands curled into fists on her thighs. “Vivienne.”

“Vivienne is everything you never were,” Eleanor said pleasantly. “Breeding. Connections. Ambition. She understands that love is a tool, not a religion. Something you never quite grasped.”

“I gave him ten years.”

“You gave him exactly what he needed you to give.” Eleanor stepped closer. Her perfume was expensive and cold. “And now you will give him one more thing. Silence. You will not speak of the accident. You will not speak of Vivienne. You will not speak of any of this to the press or to any lawyer who is not on our payroll. In return, the family will ensure your sentence is… manageable. A few years. Perhaps less with good behavior. Consider it the final payment for the life we allowed you to live.”

“What makes you think I am going to protect him now?”

But Eleanor didn’t change her expression. “I know you still love him. And love is the best leash there is, my dear. You have worn it for ten years, but you will have to wear it a little longer.”

And then she left, but paused right before the door.

“By the way, Lottie? Try not to cause a spectacle while transferring you. The Smiths have endured enough embarrassment for one night.”

The door shut.

Lock clicked.

And Lottie remained very still for quite a while. And then, little by little, she started to laugh quietly and brokenly, almost without making any sound at all. Like the shatter of something at last breaking.

She had entered the marriage, thinking she was the luckiest girl in the world.

She had stayed, thinking love was meant to be painful.

She had accepted the fall, thinking even in the last minute Geoffrey would look at her the same way he used to look on their wedding day.

And now the truth sat in her heart like a blade.

She was not the wife.

She was not the partner.

She was the pearl he had always meant to break.

And out there, beyond this room, Geoffrey Smith was already turning the history of their marriage into an elegant and dramatic and convenient tale while the woman whom he loved waited for him in his soft white sheets with a smile which had never been anything but genuine.

Lottie leaned her head back against the hard concrete and closed her eyes.

The first tear ran down her cheek, and then another.

She made no attempt to stop them from falling.

For the first time in a decade, she allowed herself to feel the full burden of each humiliation, each cold rebuke, each night when she had put aside her pride and claimed it as devotion.

And below the sorrow, something else began to grow.

Something ancient.

A thing which used to go by another name in the home with marble flooring and a grandfather who used to call her little empress.

The Smiths believed that they were throwing away an old and damaged doll.

They did not know what they were releasing.

In the meantime

The private lounge at the upper floor of the Smith Holdings smelled of good whiskey and triumph.

Geoffrey was standing at the window with his back towards the city, sipping on his newly poured glass of scotch, all the tension of the evening slowly draining away from him. Behind him, Eleanor Smith was lying on a cream sofa like the owner of the entire skyline. Priscilla was sitting in an arm chair, with one leg crossed over the other, reading the morning news alerts with a gleeful smile on her face. And Vivienne Cole in her soft white dress and shining hair was sitting right next to Geoffrey with her knee touching his every time she moved.

The laughter had started even before the lawyer left through the door.

Eleanor lifted her glass first. “To the perfect little sacrifice.”

Priscilla snorted. “To the most pathetic woman in the city. Ten years of eating shit with a smile, and she still walked into that interrogation room like a loyal dog.”

Geoffrey turned, a slow, satisfied smirk curling his mouth. “She performed exactly as expected.”

Vivienne rose gracefully and crossed to him, sliding her arms around his waist from behind. Her voice was low, intimate, meant for his ears but loud enough for the room. “You should have seen her face when she looked through that glass. So broken. So hopeful. It was almost beautiful.” She pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his neck. “You chose well, darling. A woman that stupidly in love is rarer than diamonds.”

Eleanor’s laugh was sharp and delighted. “Stupidly is the correct word. The girl actually believed you when you told her you would give her a real place in this family. As if we would ever allow that soft, nameless thing to sit at our table as an equal.”

Geoffrey’s expression flickered for the first time. He set the glass down and turned fully, Vivienne still draped against him. “Mother. Why did you tell her about Vivienne? What if she changes her mind? Who will take the blame then?”

Eleanor waved a dismissive hand, diamonds flashing. “Oh, don’t be dramatic, darling. I was merely… testing the leash. And look how tightly it still holds.” She laughed, the sound dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just joking, dear. Lottie will never believe a word I said. She loves you too much. That pathetic, desperate love of hers is the most reliable insurance policy this family has ever owned. She would rather set herself on fire than let a single spark touch you.”