Chapter 8 - THE LIE IN THE LETTER
Everything inside me snapped.
I lunged forward before I even thought. I caught Marcus by the collar of his coat and shoved him hard against the wall. He was strong, but my rage was stronger. I pressed my forearm into his chest, pinning him there.
"If you ever touch her again," I said, my voice low and deadly calm, "or threaten my children one more time… I will finish what Elena's fall started. Do I make myself clear?"
Marcus stared at me, shocked for only a moment before a smirk touched his lips.
"Violent, aren't we?" he said smoothly. "Just like that night."
I tightened my grip. "I am nothing like you. You came here pretending to avenge your sister. But you don't care about Elena. You care about my money."
"And you killed Elena to keep it," Marcus shot back.
I released him abruptly, stepping away as though burned. He straightened his coat, adjusting his collar, watching me with dark satisfaction.
"You have proof of nothing," I told him.
"I have her letter," Marcus said, tapping his chest. "Her own words."
"Do you?" I asked. Something Vanessa had said, something about hesitation and fear, began to connect in my mind. I turned to Vanessa. "Vanessa… look at me. Marcus said Elena wrote him a letter the morning she died. Telling him she was pregnant. Telling him she was afraid. Is that true?"
Vanessa hesitated. She touched her reddened cheek, glancing nervously at Marcus.
"Answer him," Marcus commanded.
"I… I saw the letter," Vanessa said.
"You saw what he showed you," I corrected. "Did you ever compare the handwriting to anything else? Did you ever see the envelope it came in?"
Vanessa went pale. She looked at Marcus. "You said it was copied from the original. You said—"
Marcus swore under his breath. He turned on her, his face dark with fury. "You fool. Why give him details?"
My heart began to race. I looked at the letter I still held in my hand—the one he had given me minutes ago. I scanned the words again. The handwriting looked like Elena's. The tone sounded like Elena. But there was something… wrong. A phrase she never would have used. A way of speaking that wasn't quite hers.
"This letter is a fake," I said quietly.
Marcus went still.
"You forged it," I continued, the pieces clicking rapidly into place now that I saw them. "You told Vanessa it was real so she would help you. You told her Elena died running from me… but you never had proof. There never was a letter. There never was a secret pregnancy. And Elena… Elena never had a brother."
Vanessa gasped. She looked from me to Marcus, her eyes filling with fresh horror.
"It's not true," Marcus snapped. "Elena told me herself—"
"Elena told you nothing," I said, stepping forward. "Because you never knew her. You found out about her death. You found out about the inheritance. And you built an entire lie to steal it. You convinced Vanessa she was helping Elena's family… when all along she was helping a con man rob us."
"It's a lie!" Marcus shouted.
"Then prove it," I challenged. "Show me proof you are related to her. A birth certificate. A photograph. Anything."
Silence. Marcus stood breathing hard, his chest heaving, his eyes darting. He had nothing. I could see it in his face. He had spun an elaborate web, but he had no actual evidence.
Vanessa took a wobbly step backward.
"You lied to me," she whispered to Marcus. "Everything you told me… Elena's letter… her brother… you made it all up? I married him. I tried to hurt an innocent baby. I risked everything… for a lie?"
Marcus turned on her, his face ugly with rage. "You did it because you needed the money just as much as I did! Don't play the victim now. You were desperate, Vanessa. Deep in debt. No family. No future. I offered you a way out. And you took it. Don't pretend you didn't know exactly what you were doing."
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Vanessa swayed as if he had struck her again. The color drained from her face. I looked at her—really looked at her—and realized something else.
She hadn't been lying all along. She had been lied to. Just like me.
