Chapter 2 - My Husband’s Perfect Murder
Daniel’s car stopped outside.
I reached for the front door.
Ethan blocked me.
“If you run outside, Marcus knows you’re here.”
“Daniel is walking into a murder.”
“And we’re going to keep him alive.”
“How?”
“Trust me for sixty seconds.”
“I trusted Marcus for seven years. My judgment isn't exactly having a great night.”
That almost made Ethan smile.
Almost.
He pulled out his phone.
“Daniel.”
I stared at him.
“You have his number?”
“I have everyone’s number.”
He called.
Daniel answered immediately.
“Cole?”
“Don’t enter the house.”
Silence.
Then Daniel said, “Why?”
“Because your brother expects you.”
“Marcus is in New York.”
Ethan looked at me.
“So is Evelyn.”
Daniel understood.
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Put her on.”
Ethan handed me the phone.
“Daniel.”
“Evelyn? What the hell is happening?”
“Stay in your car.”
“Grace called me. She said you needed help.”
My eyes closed.
Of course she had.
“Grace lied.”
“Why?”
I looked upstairs.
“Because she’s with Marcus.”
Daniel said nothing.
I hated being the person who told him.
“They’re together.”
Another silence.
“How together?”
I swallowed.
“Three years, apparently.”
His breathing changed.
“Evelyn—”
“It gets worse.”
“How?”
“They’re planning to kill us.”
Daniel laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because sometimes betrayal becomes so enormous the mind rejects it.
“My brother?”
“Yes.”
“Grace?”
“Yes.”
“You heard them?”
“I heard everything.”
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“Then I’m coming inside.”
“No.”
“He’s my brother.”
“And he wants you dead.”
“That makes it more important.”
“Daniel, listen to me. Marcus expects an angry husband. Don’t give him one.”
He went silent.
I looked at Ethan.
“What now?”
Ethan pointed toward a service corridor.
“We leave through the kitchen.”
“And Daniel?”
“He drives away.”
I spoke into the phone.
“Go to the old Lakeshore warehouse.”
Daniel knew the property. Marcus had abandoned it years earlier.
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Evelyn—”
“Please.”
Daniel finally answered.
“Twenty minutes.”
His engine started.
Upstairs, Marcus shouted.
“What the hell?”
Ethan looked toward the staircase.
“He knows.”
“How?”
“Daniel left.”
Marcus appeared at the top of the stairs.
And saw me.
Everything stopped.
Grace emerged behind him.
Her face went white.
“Evelyn?”
Marcus stared at me.
Then Ethan.
His expression changed.
“Interesting.”
Ethan stepped in front of me.
Marcus descended slowly.
“What are you doing with my wife?”
Ethan answered calmly.
“Keeping her alive.”
Marcus stopped halfway down.
“Evelyn, come here.”
For seven years, those words had been enough.
Not tonight.
“No.”
Marcus’s face remained perfectly calm.
That frightened me more than anger.
“Whatever Cole told you—”
“I heard you.”
Grace gripped the railing.
Marcus glanced at her.
Then back at me.
“Heard what?”
“My funeral arrangements.”
His eyes hardened.
“You misunderstood.”
“Daniel misunderstood too?”
That did it.
Marcus looked toward the windows.
“He was here.”
“He left.”
“Because you warned him.”
“Yes.”
Grace whispered, “Marcus…”
“Quiet.”
I looked at her.
“No, Grace. Let her talk.”
Grace couldn't meet my eyes.
“How long?”
She whispered, “Evelyn—”
“How long have you been sleeping with my husband?”
“Three years.”
The answer hurt less than I expected.
Maybe because attempted murder had changed the scale of disappointment.
“And you were going to let him kill Daniel?”
Grace began crying.
“I didn’t know that part.”
Marcus turned sharply.
“Stop talking.”
I finally understood something important.
Grace was not his partner.
She was another piece on his board.
Ethan leaned toward me.
“Time to go.”
Marcus stepped down another stair.
“You walk out with him, Evelyn, and there’s no coming back.”
I looked at the man I had married.
“That’s the first good thing you've said tonight.”
Ethan and I backed toward the service corridor.
Marcus didn’t follow.
He simply smiled.
“Cole?”
Ethan stopped.
“You still think that drive matters?”
My blood went cold.
Marcus continued.
“Whatever evidence you stole became useless the second you entered my house.”
Ethan’s expression didn't change.
But Marcus’s smile widened.
“Ask yourself why it was so easy to steal.”
We reached the kitchen.
Ethan pulled me through the door.
Outside, a black SUV waited.
Only after we were moving did I look at him.
“He planted the drive?”
“I don’t know.”
“That isn't reassuring.”
“No.”
I held it up.
“Then what do we do?”
Ethan stared through the windshield.
“We find out what Marcus wanted us to see.”
Twenty minutes later, we reached the abandoned warehouse.
Daniel was waiting.
The moment I entered, he demanded:
“Where is my wife?”
“With Marcus.”
His face collapsed for half a second.
Then he looked at Ethan.
“Show me the evidence.”
Ethan connected the drive to an offline laptop.
Folders appeared.
Payments.
Property transfers.
Insurance documents.
Then one file caught my attention.
WHITMORE SUCCESSION.
I opened it.
Daniel leaned closer.
My name appeared first.
Under it:
DECEASED — AUGUST 10.
Daniel’s name appeared beneath mine.
Same date.
But there was a third name.
Grace Whitmore.
Same date.
Daniel stared at the screen.
“He was going to kill her too.”
I slowly looked at Ethan.
Marcus hadn't been planning a future with Grace.
May you like
He had been planning to become the sole surviving Whitmore.
And according to the documents, the operation had already begun.
