Chapter 9 - The Counterfeit Wife.
Elena stepped out of the vehicle before Elias could stop her.
Daniel moved with her.
The federal perimeter remained thirty yards from the container.
Vivian watched them approach.
From a distance, the resemblance was unsettling.
Up close, it became artificial.
Vivian’s cheekbones had been altered.
Her hair color matched Elena’s.
Her gown copied a design Elena had worn to a banking dinner two years earlier.
Even the sapphire pendant at her throat was an imitation.
“You wanted me,” Elena said.
Vivian smiled.
“I wanted to see the original.”
Elias stopped several steps behind his daughter.
“Disconnect the transmitter.”
Vivian shook her head.
“It isn’t mine.”
“Then whose?”
“Nolan’s.”
Elena looked at the drive.
“Where is he?”
Vivian laughed softly.
“You still think he stays near his threats?”
Marcus arrived under escort.
The moment Vivian saw him, her smile disappeared.
“You.”
Marcus stopped.
Elena turned toward him.
Vivian’s anger was immediate and personal.
“You told me she knew.”
Marcus looked confused.
“Knew what?”
“That you were using me.”
Elena stared at him.
Vivian stood.
The agents raised their weapons slightly.
She lifted both hands.
“I’m unarmed.”
Then she looked at Elena.
“Your husband told me you approved the meetings.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Don’t listen to her.”
Vivian ignored him.
“He said you hated public negotiations.”
“He said I was a stand-in.”
“He paid me through a modeling agency.”
“At first, I thought I was playing rich-wife theater.”
Her expression darkened.
“Then Nolan made me sign documents in your name.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
“You forged my signature?”
“I refused.”
Vivian pointed toward Marcus.
“He brought copies.”
Marcus’s face went pale.
Elena turned.
“You said she never signed anything.”
“She didn’t.”
Vivian laughed.
“He’s technically telling the truth.”
She reached slowly into the gown.
Agents shouted.
Vivian froze.
Then she pulled out a folded sheet with two fingers.
Daniel took it.
The document was a signature study.
Dozens of examples of Elena’s handwriting.
Notes beside each stroke.
Pressure.
Angle.
Spacing.
Elena recognized the source immediately.
Her wedding thank-you cards.
Marcus had kept boxes of them.
Elias looked at his son-in-law.
“You trained a forger on her handwriting.”
Marcus’s voice cracked.
“Nolan did.”
“You supplied the material.”
Marcus said nothing.
Vivian sat again.
“Nolan doesn’t need me anymore.”
“Why help us?” Elena asked.
Vivian’s eyes sharpened.
“Because Celeste tried to kill me.”
The words landed hard.
“She found out I kept copies.”
“Copies of what?”
“Meetings.”
“Payments.”
“Names.”
Vivian looked at the blinking drive.
“And one recording of Nolan explaining the whole plan.”
Elena stepped closer.
“Where?”
Vivian smiled.
“Not here.”
A phone began ringing inside the container.
No one moved.
It rang again.
Daniel found it taped beneath the chair.
The screen displayed NO CALLER ID.
Elias told him not to answer.
Elena did.
“Nolan.”
A man’s voice responded calmly.
“Mrs. Ashford.”
“You wanted me at the pier.”
“No.”
A pause.
“I wanted Marcus away from his house.”
Elena turned toward her husband.
Marcus’s face emptied.
Nolan continued.
“You should ask him what’s beneath Blackthorn Manor.”
The call ended.
Marcus closed his eyes.
Elena looked at him.
“What is under the house?”
Marcus whispered, “The original servers.”
Then Daniel’s radio exploded with voices.
A security team at Blackthorn Manor had just reported smoke.
Not from the kitchen.
Not from the garage.
May you like
From beneath the estate.
Someone had set the server room on fire.
