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The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat
The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat
Autor: Pr3shy V.

The Day Everything Changes.

Autor: Pr3shy V.
last update Fecha de publicación: 2026-07-08 01:01:30

~ Isabella ~

The glass walls of Wolfe Corporate Tower reached so high up into the clouds that the cars on the street below looked like tiny plastic toys. I stood inside my private office on the top floor, looking down at the city. My hand rested flat against the cool glass.

Everything was quiet. It was the peaceful kind of quiet that comes right before a big surprise.

I turned around and looked at my desk. On top of a pile of white papers sat a very small brown box. My fingers shook just a little bit as I reached out and lifted the lid. Inside lay two tiny knitted baby shoes. They were soft and white, small enough to fit right in the palm of my hand.

I picked one up and squeezed it. My heart beat fast against my ribs, warm and full.

Nobody in the world knew my secret yet. Not the doctors, not the people working out in the hallway, and especially not Nathan. I had taken the test in my private bathroom just an hour ago. Two bright pink lines had shown up instantly.

We were having a baby.

"A baby," I whispered to the empty room. Saying the word out loud made a huge smile spread across my face.

I held the tiny shoe close to my chest and turned back toward the window. My mind drifted back six years. I remembered the very first office Nathan and I ever had. It was a tiny, cold basement room with paint peeling off the walls. We had no money back then. We ate cheap canned soup for dinner every single night on an old wooden table that wobbled whenever we touched it.

I had spent endless night shifts typing up financial plans, organizing spreadsheets, and designing the very foundation of this company while Nathan slept with his head on my shoulder. We built Wolfe Enterprises together from nothing. Step by step. Piece by piece.

Now, today, the news channels were broadcasting that Wolfe Enterprises had just finished its most profitable quarter in history. Nathan was a billionaire. We had made it. And now, we were going to be a family.

I put the tiny shoes back into the box, closed the lid, and tucked it safely inside my leather handbag. I couldn't wait for tonight. I wanted to take Nathan back to our home, sit him down on the couch, and hand him the box. I wanted to see his face light up.

Suddenly, loud, angry voices exploded from the hallway outside my door.

Heavy footsteps pounded across the carpet. Before I could even reach for my door handle, my office door slammed open, banging hard against the wall.

Six men in dark suits marched into my room. They weren't employees. They had bright silver badges pinned to their jackets and thick black folders tucked under their arms.

"Isabella Wolfe?" the man in the front asked. His voice was loud, hard, and flat like a concrete wall.

"Yes?" I said, taking a step back until my lower back hit the edge of my desk. "Who are you? What is going on?"

"Federal investigators," the man said. He didn't smile. He didn't even blink. "You need to come with us right now, Mrs. Wolfe. Do not touch your computer. Do not touch your phone."

My stomach dropped like a heavy stone. "Investigators? Why? What did I do?"

"We are taking you to the executive boardroom," the agent replied. He held out his hand, pointing toward the open door. "Move, please."

My legs felt weak, like filled with sand, but I forced myself to walk. Two agents walked in front of me, and two walked right behind me. As we stepped into the long glass hallway, all the office workers stopped what they were doing. My assistants, the accountants, and the managers all turned their heads. They stared at me with wide, shocked eyes. Some of them whispered behind their hands.

My face felt hot. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but I kept my head up. It's just a misunderstanding, I told myself. Nathan will clear this up. Nathan will fix it.

The double doors of the grand boardroom were wide open.

Inside, the long mahogany table was covered with stacks of white paper. A bright spotlight shone down from the ceiling, making the whole room feel sharp and cold.

Sitting at the far end of the table were Nathan's father, Arthur Wolfe, and Nathan's sister, Victoria. Corporate lawyers sat on both sides of them, typing quickly on their laptops.

And standing right by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the city with his back to the room, was Nathan.

"Nathan!" I called out, my voice cracking with relief. I tried to walk toward him, but an agent stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Nathan, please tell them who I am! Tell them to stop this!"

Nathan didn't move for three long seconds. Then, slowly, he turned around.

My breathing stopped.

The man looking at me did not look like my husband. His dark hair was combed back neatly, his high-end suit was perfectly pressed, but his face was completely blank. His eyes were cold, like grey ice. There was no warmth in his gaze, no smile, no gentle look that usually welcomed me whenever we entered a room together.

"Sit down, Isabella," Arthur Wolfe commanded from the head of the table. Arthur was an old man with thick grey hair and deep lines around his mouth. He looked at me the same way he looked at dirt on his expensive shoes.

"I won't sit down until someone tells me what is happening!" I declared. My heart was hammering inside my chest so hard it hurt. I looked straight at Nathan. "Nathan, talk to me. What is all this?"

Nathan didn't walk over to me. Instead, he reached down, picked up a thick blue folder from the table, and threw it down in front of an empty chair.

TAP.

The sound echoed through the silent room like a gunshot.

"Sit," Nathan said. His voice was quiet, flat, and totally devoid of life.

I swallowed hard and sat down on the edge of the leather chair. My fingers gripped the armrests tightly to stop them from shaking.

"Look at the pages," Nathan ordered.

I picked up the top paper with trembling fingers. The page was filled with numbers, bank codes, and corporate names I had never heard of before in my life. Blue Sky Holdings. Apex Global Ltd. Crestview Offshore. Millions and millions of dollars were listed next to these names, moving out of Wolfe Enterprises and disappearing into banks overseas.

And at the very bottom of every single page, stamped in clear blue ink, was a signature.

Isabella Wolfe.

It was my digital signature. My official seal.

"This... this isn't real," I stammered, pulling the paper closer to my eyes. "I don't know what these companies are. I've never seen these bank codes before in my life!"

"Those papers show over fifty million dollars stolen from our company accounts over the last eight months," Arthur said, leaning forward and slamming his hand onto the table. "Stolen and moved into secret bank accounts under your name!"

"No!" I shouted, standing right back up. The chair scraped loudly against the floor. "That's impossible! I didn't steal anything! I work for this company! I helped build it!"

I looked across the table at Victoria. "Victoria, tell them! You know how hard I work here every day!"

Victoria folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her seat. She gave me a tiny, bitter smile. "The numbers don't lie, Isabella. Your signature is on every single transfer code. You're the only person besides Nathan who had the master security key to those accounts."

"Someone else must have used it!" I cried out. Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I forced them not to fall. I turned back to Nathan. He was standing completely still, watching me like I was a stranger he had just met on the street.

"Nathan, look at me," I pleaded, stepping around the chair. "Please, just look at me. You know me. I am your wife. I am the woman who stayed up with you for three days straight in that freezing basement when we couldn't even pay our heating bill! I built this company beside you when we had nothing! Why would I steal from you now?"

Nathan crossed his arms.

"That signature belongs to you, Isabella," Nathan said coldly. "The security log says the files were opened from your personal laptop inside your office."

"I didn't do it!" I begged, my voice trembling. I took another step toward him, reaching out my hand. "Nathan, listen to me! Someone is setting me up! Someone forged my signature! You have to believe me!"

"The government agents don't think it's a setup," Arthur cut in sharply. "The evidence is absolute. You ruined us, Isabella. You brought the federal government to our doorstep."

"I am not talking to you, Arthur!" I yelled, finally letting a tear spill down my cheek. I looked straight into Nathan's grey eyes, searching for any sign of the man I loved. "Nathan, please. You have to listen to me. I have something important to tell you. Something about our future. Something about tonight..."

I reached for my handbag, wanting to pull out the tiny brown box, wanting to show him the white baby shoes, wanting to remind him that we were going to be parents.

"Stop," Nathan said sharply.

His single word froze me in place.

"Don't bring up our future," Nathan continued, his voice dropping into a harsh, dark tone. "This is no longer about our marriage, Isabella. This is about the survival of the Wolfe empire. The company comes first. It always comes first."

The coldness in his voice sliced right through my chest. The room felt suddenly freezing, like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I stared at him, my mouth slightly open, my hand frozen over my purse.

He didn't care about my words. He didn't care about our past. He wasn't looking at his wife anymore. He was looking at an enemy.

Nathan stepped forward, reached into his jacket, and pulled out another single sheet of paper. He slid it across the long mahogany table. It slid smoothly over the wood and stopped right in front of my hands.

He leaned down, placing both palms flat on the table, staring right into my eyes.

"Tell me, Isabella..." Nathan whispered, his voice dangerously quiet. "...how long have you been stealing from me?"

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  • The Wife He Used as a Scapegoat    Burning the Last Bridge.

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