Semua Bab The Governor’s Wife, His beautiful ruin: Bab 101 - Bab 110

Alfred The interview was scheduled for noon at Channel 7’s downtown studio, a calculated choice because their anchor Maria Castellanos had a reputation for being tough but fair which meant she wouldn’t lob softballs but she also wouldn’t ambush him with gotcha questions designed purely for viral clips. Lawson had arranged it within two hours of Mrs. Reeves’s video going public and now Alfred sat in the makeup chair getting powder applied to his face while his communications director ran through talking points one more time. “Stick to the narrative,” she said, scrolling through her tablet. “You’re the victim of a coordinated smear campaign orchestrated by Daniel Thompson’s people who are desperate because they’re losing in the polls. Express sympathy for Mrs. Reeves but be firm that her accusations are completely baseless. Deny everything about Diana, emphasize your commitment to cooperating with investigations, and pivot to your actual policy platform whenever possible.” “I know

EvelynI was at the vanity removing my earrings when the bedroom door opened. Not the usual way Alfred entered, but a stumbling crash that sent the door banging against the wall hard enough to rattle the framed photos on the dresser.I turned and saw him gripping the doorframe, tie hanging loose around his neck, shirt half-untucked, hair falling across his forehead in a way that made him look younger and lost. His eyes were unfocused, glassy, and when he tried to take a step forward his knee buckled and he nearly went down.“Alfred.”I crossed the room fast, catching him before he could hit the floor. He was heavy, leaning his full weight against me, and I had to brace myself to keep us both upright. The smell of whiskey rolled off him in waves, and I realized he wasn’t just drunk, he was obliterated in a way I hadn’t seen since the early days of our marriage when losing a case or an election going badly would send him spiraling.“I’m fine,” he mumbled, even though he clearly wasn’t.

EvelynThe ice rink was colder than I expected. I pulled my coat tighter and sat between Alfred and Nathan in the bleachers, watching Clara warm up on the ice with the other skaters doing lazy circles and practice jumps while the crowd filled in around us.Alfred had his phone out taking pictures, actual pictures, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to get better angles. Nathan was eating popcorn from a bag we’d bought at the concession stand, looking more relaxed than I’d seen him in weeks.We looked like a normal family. Like people who did this every weekend, who showed up for their daughter’s competitions and cheered and took photos and went out for celebratory dinners afterward regardless of whether she won or lost.“She looks nervous,” Alfred said, watching Clara adjust her skates for the third time. “Do you think she’s ready?”“She’s always ready. She just psyches herself out before she performs.”“She gets that from you.”I looked at him. “What?”“The overthinking. Th

EvelynI stared at the photograph of Alfred and Grego shaking hands, both of them smiling like old friends celebrating a victory, and felt something cold settle in my chest.“He’s been working with a drug lord since before Nathan was born,” I said quietly. “Before Clara. Before any of it.”“Yes.”“Everything I gave up. My career, my partnership, my entire life. I did it for a man who was already a criminal.”Theo moved closer, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his body. “Evelyn.”I set the photo down and turned to look at him. He was watching me with those dark eyes that saw too much, that made me feel exposed and safe at the same time.“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this is hard to hear.”“Hard?” I laughed but it came out bitter. “I’ve spent twenty two years believing we were building something legitimate. Something that mattered. And it was all just him covering up crimes and making deals with drug dealers and lying about every single thing.”“You didn’t know.”“I sh

EvelynI woke to my phone buzzing on the nightstand. The room was still dark, curtains drawn against the morning light. Alfred’s side of the bed was empty, sheets pulled tight like he’d never been there at all.I reached for my phone and squinted at the screen. Three missed calls from an unknown number. I sat up, pushed the covers back, and listened for sounds downstairs. Nothing.The phone buzzed again in my hand. Same number. I got out of bed, grabbed my robe, and walked down the hall to the guest room at the far end. Closed the door behind me before I answered.“Hello?”“Mrs. Cole, it’s Detective Santos. I’ve been trying to reach you.”“It’s six in the morning.”“I know. I need to meet with you today. It’s urgent.”I sat down on the edge of the guest bed, pulling my robe tighter. “What’s this about?”“I found something big. Something you need to see. Can you meet me this afternoon?”“Where?”“There’s a diner off Route 9, about forty minutes outside the city. Angelo’s. Do you know i