Chapter 3 - The Wife Who Planned Her Own Replacement
Fiona wanted to leave.
Ronan refused.
They argued for twenty minutes.
“You kidnapped me!”
“And somebody photographed you.”
“Then call the police.”
Patrick coughed quietly.
Fiona glared at him.
“Right. Forgot who I was talking to.”
Ronan leaned against his desk.
“You leave this property, Fallon’s enemies can reach you.”
“Her enemies?”
“Mine too.”
“I have a job.”
“Your employer believes you’re visiting a sick relative.”
Fiona stared at him.
“You called my boss?”
“Patrick did.”
Patrick lifted one hand.
“He was surprisingly understanding.”
“Get out.”
Patrick looked at Ronan.
Ronan nodded.
Patrick left.
Fiona turned back.
“You do not get to rearrange my life.”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“After kidnapping me.”
“Yes.”
“That is not the defense you think it is.”
Ronan rubbed his forehead.
“I know.”
That stopped her.
He seemed exhausted.
Not dangerous.
Not for one brief second.
Just exhausted.
Fiona sat.
“Tell me everything.”
Ronan hesitated.
“Everything.”
He finally nodded.
“Four months ago, Fallon started behaving differently.”
“How?”
“She became nervous.”
“My sister?”
“Exactly.”
Ronan walked toward the window.
“She started moving money. Asking questions about businesses that had nothing to do with her. Then my security chief, Patrick, caught her opening a restricted safe.”
Fiona frowned.
“You said she shot him.”
“She did.”
“Why is he walking?”
“Knee healed.”
“That casually?”
“He complains when it rains.”
Fiona almost laughed despite herself.
Ronan continued.
“She escaped that night. Three million disappeared with her.”
“And the information?”
“Also gone.”
“Who wants it?”
“Too many people.”
A phone rang.
Ronan checked the screen.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Silence.
Then a woman spoke.
“Hello, husband.”
Fiona stopped breathing.
Ronan’s face became stone.
“Fallon.”
Fiona stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
The voice continued.
“Did you miss me?”
“Where are you?”
“Is my sister there?”
Ronan looked at Fiona.
Her knees weakened.
“Fallon?”
Silence.
Then:
“Hello, Fi.”
Fiona grabbed the phone.
“Where have you been?”
“Busy.”
“Six years!”
“I know.”
“Mom died asking for you!”
A pause.
Then Fallon’s voice lost some of its amusement.
“I know.”
“You don’t get to say that!”
“Fiona, listen carefully. You need to leave Ronan.”
“He’s the one who kidnapped me!”
Fallon laughed.
“That sounds like him.”
Ronan took the phone back.
“What are you doing?”
“What I should have done years ago.”
“Which is?”
“Destroying the people who own us.”
Ronan’s expression tightened.
“No one owns you.”
“You did.”
“You married me willingly.”
“I married you because your name kept worse men away.”
Fiona stared at him.
Ronan said nothing.
Fallon continued.
“But you were never the real target, Ronan.”
“Who was?”
The line went silent.
Then Fallon said one name.
“Victor Dane.”
Ronan’s face changed.
Patrick entered just as Ronan ended the call.
“Trace?”
Patrick shook his head.
“Burner routed through three networks.”
Fiona looked between them.
“Who is Victor Dane?”
Ronan answered quietly.
“The man who introduced me to your sister.”
“And?”
“He controls half the money Fallon stole.”
“That doesn’t explain why she’s afraid of him.”
Ronan stared at Fiona.
“No.”
Then Patrick’s phone buzzed.
He read the message.
“Boss.”
“What?”
Patrick held up the screen.
Security footage showed a black sedan outside the manor gates.
A woman stepped out.
Fiona stared.
Her own face stared back.
Fallon.
Ronan reached inside his jacket.
Fiona caught his arm.
“No.”
“She shot Patrick.”
“She’s my sister.”
“She stole from me.”
“She’s still my sister.”
Ronan’s eyes met hers.
Outside, the gates began to open.
Fiona whispered:
May you like
“If you want the truth, let her walk through that door.”
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