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Burning the Last Bridge.

Penulis: Pr3shy V.
last update Tanggal publikasi: 2026-09-07 14:06:14

~ Nathan Wolfe ~

The heavy mahogany doors of the executive boardroom clicked shut with a sharp, final sound.

I sat at the head of the long glass table. My father’s old leather chair felt too big, I kept my elbows on the cold glass, my hands flat, staring down the six men and three women who represented the remaining board of directors for Wolfe Enterprises.

"You've lost your mind, Nathan," Harold Vance said. He was sixty-two, wore a gold watch that cost more than a house, and had been my fathe
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  • The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat    Burning the Last Bridge.

    ~ Nathan Wolfe ~The heavy mahogany doors of the executive boardroom clicked shut with a sharp, final sound. I sat at the head of the long glass table. My father’s old leather chair felt too big, I kept my elbows on the cold glass, my hands flat, staring down the six men and three women who represented the remaining board of directors for Wolfe Enterprises."You've lost your mind, Nathan," Harold Vance said. He was sixty-two, wore a gold watch that cost more than a house, and had been my father’s primary ally for twenty years. He slammed a thick stack of printed financial reports onto the glass table. "The media is calling us a sinking ship. Our stock dropped eighteen percent this morning. Eighteen percent!""It will stabilize," I said. My voice was low, flat, and raspy from lack of sleep."Stabilize?" another board member, a woman named Eleanor, scoffed. She leaned forward, resting her diamond-ringed fingers against the edge of the table. "You spent the last forty-eight hours handin

  • The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat    Entangled. For Better, For Worse.

    ~ Isabella ~I stared at the wall of monitors in the Vanguard war room, the cool blue light burning against my tired eyes. It was three in the morning. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the Manhattan skyline was a silent grid of muted yellow squares.On the center screen, the internal Vanguard files Richard Sterling had leaked before vanishing were highlighted in harsh yellow. They were pieces of private communications, completely stripped of context—drafted strategy notes, old internal emails from my first days post-prison, and heavily edited audio logs. Cole’s media operatives had packaged them flawlessly. To any outsider reading the morning headlines, I didn't look like a disciplined CEO executing a defense. I looked like a ruthless, unstable woman driven by wild, unhinged vengeance.It was the exact same script from three years ago. The exact same public execution.Maya stood beside my desk, her tailored jacket thrown over the back of a chair, her dark hair pulled into a messy

  • The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat    The Files Sterling Left Behind.

    ~ Damian Cole ~I sat alone in my darkened study, the heavy oak desk before me illuminated only by the faint, blue glow of a single decrypted terminal. The fallout of the warehouse district setup was playing out with exquisite precision.Sterling had panicked. He had fled into the dark like a frightened animal the moment gunfire echoed through the maze, leaving behind the curated internal files he had spent weeks pulling from Vanguard’s private servers. He thought he was saving his own skin. In reality, he had simply handed me the final pieces of the narrative I had been building for years.I leaned back, resting my elbows on the polished leather armrests, and brought a glass of crystal water to my lips. On the screen, a series of confidential internal memos flashed in slow succession. They were private communications, strategy drafts, and encrypted emails written by Isabella Hart—documents carefully selected and arranged to make her look completely unhinged, ruthless, and corporate-o

  • The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat    Watching Her Sleep. The Cost of a Question.

    ~ Nathan ~I sat in a wooden chair across the room, watching Isabella sleep.The dark loft was quiet, except for the soft hum of the rain hitting the glass windows. The air smelled like copper from my cut arm and cold rain from outside. A white bandage sat tight around my ribs where the bullet had grazed me at the warehouse. It stung every time I took a deep breath, but I didn't mind the pain. I deserved much worse.Isabella was curled up on her side on the big gray couch. She had one hand tucked under her cheek, her dark hair messy across the pillow. She looked small like this. In the daytime, when she wore her sharp business suits at Vanguard, she looked untouchable. She looked like a wall of solid ice that nothing could break. But right now, in her oversized sweater, she just looked tired.She was safe. That was the only thing that mattered.My heart still pounded against my ribs when I thought about the warehouse. When the gun fired and the glass shattered, my body moved before my

  • The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat    Let Him Stay.

    ~ Isabella ~ The warehouse floor was freezing and filthy, and Nathan’s blood was already soaking through my stockings.Miller and the second guard hauled him upright by the armpits while I kept both hands clamped over the wound. Warm blood pulsed between my fingers with every weak beat of his heart. His head lolled against my shoulder. His eyes stayed closed. No flutter. No sound. Just the terrible, wet weight of him.“Move,” I ordered, voice cracking. “Now.”They dragged him through the side door into the rain. Maya had the SUV running, rear doors already flung open. We shoved him across the back seat. I climbed in after him, slamming the door with my hip, never lifting my hands from his chest. The car lurched forward. Tires hissed over wet gravel.“Hospital,” Maya said from the front, voice tight.“No.”“Bella—”“No hospital. Gunshot wound. Mandatory report. Cole’s people will be listening to every scanner in the city within ten minutes. They’ll know exactly where to find him.” I p

  • The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat    The Sting that Failed.

    ~ Isabella ~The warehouse district smells like salt, wet asphalt, and rotting wood.We park two streets away, tucked behind an empty shipping container that blocks the river wind. The engine dies, and the sudden quiet in the SUV feels heavy, like a hand pressing against my chest.I look down at my tablet. The blue dot representing Richard Sterling’s personal phone flashes every two seconds. He is moving toward the docks, right on schedule."Security is in place," Maya says from the front seat. She turns around, her screen casting a pale light across her tight, nervous mouth. "Two teams at the north gate, two at the water. If Sterling tries to pass those files to Cole’s man, we catch them both on video with the drive in hand.""He won't run," I say, keeping my voice flat and even. "Richard thinks he's the smartest man in every room he enters. He thinks I’m still sitting in my loft, second-guessing myself."beside me, Nathan doesn't say a word. He is staring out the tinted window into

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