Chapter 3: Thirty Percent Widow

Evangeline's Pov

 

“Mrs Harrow, if you’ll sign here.”

 

The lawyer slid some papers across his fancy mahogany desk, and I stared at them like they might bite me. His office smelled like old books and expensive leather and coffee that had been sitting too long. My head was pounding from not sleeping and thinking way too much about last night and things I shouldn’t have done.

 

I slept with my husband’s brother six hours after his funeral. Now, I was sitting in a lawyer’s office pretending I was a respectable widow who made respectable choices.

 

“What exactly am I signing?” My voice sounded hollow even to me.

 

“The transfer documents. Daniel’s shares in Harrow Industries are now legally yours. Thirty percent, like his will says.” The lawyer was old and gray and looked like he’d seen everything twice. “There’s one condition, though.”

 

Of course there was. Nothing in this family came without strings.

 

“What kind of condition?”

 

“If you remarry within three years of Daniel’s death, the shares go automatically to your new husband.” He said it like it was normal. Like that was just how things worked. “Daniel was very specific about this.”

 

I read the words again to make sure I got it right. Thirty percent of a billion-dollar company. The second biggest shareholder after Nathaniel, who had fifty-one percent. But only if I stayed unmarried for three years.

 

“Why would he do that?”

 

The lawyer adjusted his glasses and looked at me like I was supposed to already know. “Maybe he wanted to protect you or maybe he wanted to make sure the shares didn’t go to someone who might use them against the family.”

 

Protection. That word tasted wrong in my mouth, Daniel never protected me from anything. He barely protected himself.

 

“Who else knows about this clause?”

 

“The entire board was there when the will was read yesterday, Including Mr Nathaniel Harrow.” The lawyer tapped the line where I was supposed to sign. “If you’re ready.”

 

I signed my name and watched the ink dry. The weight of it settled on my shoulders. Thirty percent, i was the second most powerful person in Harrow Industries now, and I had no clue what I was doing.

 

The lawyer handed me a folder with copies of everything. I walked out into the hallway where the morning sun was way too bright, and the air felt too thin. My phone buzzed in my purse, but I ignored it, probably condolence messages, or people wanting to know what I’d do with my new power.

 

I drove back to the mansion in silence. The house Daniel and I shared for three years, but never felt like mine. It was too big, too cold, and decorated by his mom before we moved in. Every room felt like a museum. Like we were just visitors passing through.

 

I parked in the driveway and stared at the front door. I thought about last night, showing up at Nathaniel’s penthouse, the way he opened the door like he’d been expecting me, and everything that happened after.

 

I should have felt guilty. Daniel was dead, and I’d crawled into his brother’s bed before his body was even cold.

 

But I didn’t feel guilty. I felt awake for the first time in years.

 

I let myself into the house. It was too quiet, The staff had the day off. I’d told them to take time to grieve, even though most of them barely knew Daniel. He was never home long enough for anyone to know him.

 

I went straight to his study on the second floor. I’d avoided that room during our marriage because it felt like trespassing, but now everything was mine, so trespassing didn’t matter.

 

The desk was neat. Daniel was always organized to the point of obsession. Every pen in its holder, every paper in its file. I started opening drawers and going through them one by one.

 

It was filled with bills, Company reports, emails printed and filed by date. Nothing interesting, nothing explaining why he left me thirty percent or why he put that remarriage clause in place.

 

Then I found the laptop in the bottom drawer under a stack of folders. It was thin and black, when I opened it, the screen lit up, asking for a password.

 

I tried his birthday, but it was wrong. Our wedding anniversary, wrong . His mom’s maiden name, his dad’s name, the name of his childhood dog, everything was wrong.

 

The laptop locked me out after five tries.

 

I sat back in his chair and stared at it, frustration burning in my chest. He left this here for a reason, it was hidden but not hidden enough. Like he wanted someone to find it but only if they were looking.

 

I kept searching. Under the desk mat, I found a flash drive taped to the bottom. Small, silver, labeled in Daniel’s careful handwriting:

 

“If something happens to me, trust no one.”

 

My hands shook as I peeled it off. Trust no one, not even me, apparently, because when I plugged it into the laptop, the flash drive was password protected too.

 

I took both items to the bedroom and hid them in the back of my closet under some sweaters. Then I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to think.

 

Daniel knew something. He had been planning for something. Whatever it was got him killed.

 

My phone rang. Nathaniel’s name flashed on the screen. I let it ring twice before answering.

 

“Yes.”

 

“My office. One hour.” His voice was flat. No hello, no small talk.

 

“I have plans.”

 

“Cancel them.” He hung up before I could say anything.

 

I drove to Harrow Industries tower downtown, and the security guard waved me through like I’d been coming here for years. Maybe word traveled fast in buildings like this, or maybe they already knew I was a shareholder.

 

The elevator took me to the top floor. Nathaniel’s office took up half the space. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Glass desk. Everything cold, sharp, expensive.

 

His assistant wasn’t at her desk, so I walked straight in and found him standing at the windows, looking out over the city like he owned it. Maybe he did.

 

“You wanted to see me.” I stayed near the door. Neutral ground.

 

“Congratulations on your inheritance.” He didn’t turn around. “Thirty percent. More than Daniel ever told me he was leaving you.”

 

“Maybe he didn’t tell you everything.”

 

“Maybe not.” He turned finally. His eyes were the same cold gray as yesterday. “But I know you found something in his study last night.”

 

My blood went cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Don’t lie to me, Evangeline.” He stepped closer. I forced myself not to step back. “I have cameras in that house. A security system Daniel didn’t know about. I watched you go through his desk, watched you find the laptop and the flash drive.”

 

I felt sick. He’d been watching, the whole time.

 

“That’s illegal.”

 

“So is sleeping with your brother-in-law six hours after the funeral, but here we are.” He stopped right in front of me and tilted his head. “What was on the flash drive?”

 

“I don’t know. It’s password protected.”

 

“The laptop too, I’m guessing.” He almost smiled. “Daniel was paranoid. Thought someone was going to kill him, looks like he was right.”

 

“You killed him.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “You wanted his shares and he was going to expose you, so you killed him.”

 

Nathaniel reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The gesture was almost gentle.

 

“If I wanted Daniel dead, I wouldn’t have wasted time with a building collapse. I’d have walked into his office and shot him myself.” His fingers traced down my neck. “Give me the laptop and the flash drive.”

 

“No.”

 

“Evangeline.” His name sounded like a warning. “You’re playing a game you don’t understand.”

 

“Then teach me the rules.” I met his eyes and didn’t look away. “Or are you scared of what I might find?”

 

His jaw tightened. For a second, I thought he might lose control. Then he stepped back and fixed his tie.

 

“Leave then. Keep your secrets.” He walked to his desk. “But know this: you’re not the only one digging for the truth.”

 

I turned to leave, my hand on the door handle, when he spoke again.

 

“But be careful, Evangeline.”

 

I froze.

 

He moved behind me, so close I could feel his heat on my back. His fingers slowly trailed down my spine, deliberately, wrong.

 

I turned to face him. That’s when I saw it, his computer screen, showing a paused frame of security footage. Me in Daniel’s study last night, opening drawers, finding the laptop.

 

He’d been watching the entire time.

 

“Get out of my office.” His voice was soft. “Before I decide to keep you here.”

 

I left, and the elevator doors closed behind me. I leaned against the wall and tried to breathe. He’d been watching and  whatever was on that laptop and flash drive was important enough for him to want it badly.