Semua Bab Falling For His Forsaken Wife: Bab 11 - Bab 20

I stood frozen on the sidewalk, staring at the black sedan that had haunted my nightmares for over a month. The license plate was unmistakable—REED01. Alex's personal car, the one he drove when he wanted to handle business himself instead of using his driver. My legs felt weak. My hands started trembling. He had found me. I ducked behind a parked truck, my heart beating so loudly. Through the gap between vehicles, I could see the sedan was empty. Which meant Alex was already inside somewhere, talking to someone. Mrs. Martinez. Panic shot through me. What if he threatened her? What if he demanded information about me? Mrs. Martinez was kind, but she was also older and probably intimidated by men like Alex. Would she tell him I was living here? I pulled out my phone with shaking fingers and called Miguel. "Emily? Are you okay? You sou

The following days passed in a strange rhythm of normalcy and tension. I went to work, had lunch with Miguel, and helped customers at the gallery. On the surface, everything looked peaceful. Underneath, I felt like I was waiting for a bomb to go off.Alex had not returned to the motel, but I knew he was still in the city. Mrs. Martinez mentioned seeing the same black sedan drive slowly past the motel twice more. Never stopping, never parking, just cruising by like a shark circling its prey."He is watching," she said one evening as we sat on the bench outside the office. "Waiting for the right moment.""The right moment for what?""I do not know, dear. But men like your husband do not give up easily. They plan."Miguel had found a small studio apartment in a neighborhood called Riverside, about twenty minutes away by bus. It was tiny but had good light for painting, and the rent was cheap enough that he could afford it with his savings."I put in my notice at the motel," he told me ov

The photograph of Vanessa stared back at us from Sophia's phone screen. Even in the dim lighting of the coffee shop, her smile looked calculated and predatory."I need you to explain everything," I said, my voice barely steady. "From the beginning."Sophia glanced around the coffee shop nervously. "Not here. Too many people, too exposed. There is a small park three blocks north. We can talk there."Miguel shook his head. "How do we know you are not working with her? How do we know this is not another trap?""Because," Sophia said, pulling out her employee badge from Reed Industries, "I am the one who has been trying to expose what Vanessa has been doing to your family for the past six months."The badge looked legitimate. Sophia Chen, Senior Financial Analyst, Reed Industries."Why should we trust you?" I asked."Because if I wanted to hurt you, I would have told Alexander where you were weeks ago. I am the one who has been redirecting his private investigators, sending them to look in

We decided to meet Alex at his office the next morning. Neutral territory where he would feel comfortable, where he might be more likely to listen to what we had to say.Miguel and I barely slept that night. We sat in my motel room until dawn, going over what we would tell Alex, how we would present the evidence, and how we would convince him that Vanessa had been manipulating him for years."What if he does not believe us?" Miguel asked for the tenth time."Then we figure out another way to save Sophia.""And if he chooses Vanessa over the truth?"I did not have a good answer for that.At nine in the morning, we took a taxi to the Reed Industries building downtown. The gleaming glass tower stretched forty stories into the sky, a monument to the business empire Alex had built since his father's death.I had only been here once before, during our engagement party three years ago. Then, I had felt proud to be part of this world. Now, the building felt cold and intimidating.The receptio

The police station smelled like coffee, disinfectant, and the particular exhaustion that came from too many people dealing with too many problems under fluorescent lights. Detective Morrison was younger than I had expected from his voice on the phone, maybe early forties with graying temples and tired eyes that had probably seen more than their share of human cruelty. "Mrs. Reed, Mr. Martinez," he said, gesturing for us to sit in chairs across from his desk. "Thank you for coming in so late." Miguel and I exchanged glances. He was using our assumed names, the ones we had been living under for weeks. "Actually, Detective," Miguel said, "there are some things about our identities that you should know." "Oh?" "My real name is Miguel Reed. Emily's real name is Emily Reed. We have been using false names for safety reasons." Detective Morrison