CHAPTER 2 — The Perfect Widow
Three weeks later, Nathan returned home.
Still in a wheelchair.
Still speaking softly.
Still pretending to struggle with memory.
Vanessa transformed overnight into the perfect wife.
She fed him breakfast.
Pushed his wheelchair through the garden.
Read books aloud whenever visitors arrived.
Friends praised her endlessly.
"I've never seen such devotion."
Vanessa smiled modestly.
Inside, she counted the days until Nathan's health declined.
The doctors warned his heart remained fragile.
One more complication...
One infection...
One unfortunate accident...
And everything would belong to her.
What she didn't know was that every room inside Whitmore Manor had quietly been upgraded.
Hidden cameras.
Encrypted microphones.
Motion sensors.
Daniel Reeves supervised every installation himself.
Nathan watched everything from a secure office beneath the estate.
Every lie.
Every secret meeting.
Every whispered phone call.
Eric became impatient.
"This is taking too long," he complained one evening.
Vanessa poured him a drink inside the guesthouse.
"He survived once."
"He won't survive twice."
Eric frowned.
"What if he changes the will?"
Vanessa smiled.
"He already signed the new estate documents before the waterfall."
"Everything transfers to me."
Eric relaxed.
Neither realized the document Nathan signed months earlier had never been filed.
His attorney had refused to process it until Nathan personally confirmed the changes after recovery.
Nathan already knew.
Because Daniel had intercepted every legal inquiry.
One afternoon Nathan unexpectedly rolled into the library.
Vanessa quickly hid her phone.
"Talking to someone?"
Nathan asked gently.
"My sister."
Nathan nodded.
"I miss trusting people."
Vanessa froze.
"What do you mean?"
Nathan smiled again.
"I had the strangest dream."
"What dream?"
"I dreamed someone pushed me."
The color disappeared from Vanessa's face.
Nathan watched every tiny reaction.
Then laughed softly.
"Funny what pain medication does."
She forced herself to laugh with him.
But after he left, her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
That night Daniel entered Nathan's office carrying a folder.
"We have enough."
Inside were photographs.
Hotel receipts.
Secret bank transfers.
Recorded conversations.
Life insurance applications filed only eight days before the trip.
Nathan quietly closed the folder.
"No."
Daniel looked confused.
May you like
"No?"
"I want the truth from their own mouths."
