A wealthy widower, Nathaniel Sterling, discovers on his wedding night that his new wife, Emerald, and her mother are plotting to exploit him for his wealth, potentially linked to the suspicious death of his first wife.
Mind Map
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I was flat on my stomach under the
king-size bed, holding my breath like a
foolish teenager. My suit jacket was
still on. My bow tie was loose. My
cheeks were hot from all the dancing and
the flashing cameras and the loud cheers
at the wedding hall. But none of that
mattered anymore because the hotel room
door just opened. And the footsteps that
entered were not my wife's. They were
slow, careful, confident. A woman's
heels clicked on the shiny floor. Then
the door locked from the inside. I
blinked fast in the darkness under the
bed, confused. Emerald was meant to come
in first. She was meant to scream when
she saw me jump out. We would laugh. We
would finally be alone. That was the
prank. But the voice that spoke next
made my stomach twist. Emerald, the
woman said softly. Come and sit. We must
talk now. It was her mother, Mrs.
Genevie Hawthorne. And the worst part?
Emerald answered from inside the room
like she had been waiting for her.
Mommy, you came. I thought you would be
with my siblings. I left them. Her
mother replied. This is more important.
I pressed my palm to the carpet. My
heart began to pound so loud I was sure
they would hear it. I wanted to slide
out and say, "Good evening, Ma. You
scared me." But something about her
mother's tone froze me. Then Mrs.
Hawthorne said the words that broke me
into pieces. Remember, she whispered,
"This man is not your husband. He is
your ladder and we must not waste time.
If we do this well, you will not just
become rich. You will own everything he
has. Uh my mouth fell open. Emerald gave
a small laugh, the kind that sounded
like she was joking, but she was not.
Mommy, I know. No. Her mother snapped,
still keeping her voice low. You think
you know, but you are too soft. You
smiled too much today. You looked at him
like you were in love. There was a
pause. Then Emerald spoke again, slower
this time. I was acting good, her mother
said. Because acting is how we survive.
Your father's death finished us. Your
siblings are hungry. The world is hard.
And this billionaire Nathaniel Sterling,
he is the answer [clears throat] God has
sent. Nathaniel Sterling. That was me. I
felt my ears ring. I had been a single
father for 15 long years. I had buried
my first wife and carried my grief like
a heavy bag on my back. I had raised my
two children with all my strength. And
now on the night I finally agreed to
love again. I was hearing my new wife's
mother call me a ladder under the bed.
My fingers started to shake. Mrs.
Hawthorne continued, "You will be smart.
You will be patient. You will make him
trust you. and you will do what we
discussed quietly. Emerald's voice
dropped to a whisper. Yes, quietly. My
chest tightened. I did not hear them
mention any weapon. I did not hear them
mention any details, but I understood
the meaning in that whisper. My throat
went dry. Mrs. Hawthorne sighed.
Nathaniel is not a fool. He has
security. He has staff. He has children.
His family will watch you. So we move
gently. We move slowly. We make him feel
safe. Emerald said he already feels
safe. That is why he married me. Then
her mother said the next sentence. And I
almost hit my head on the bed frame in
shock. And one more thing. Mrs.
Hawthorne added, "You must never let him
find out what really happened to his
first wife." End quote. Time stopped. My
heartbeat stopped. Even my breath
stopped. Emerald did not reply
immediately. And that silence was the
loudest sound in the room. I lay there
under the bed staring into darkness as
one thought slammed into my mind like a
door. What does she mean? What really
happened to my first wife? Hours
earlier, I would have told anyone that
Emerald was my fresh start and many
years of grief when I lost my wife. I
met her on an ordinary day in a
supermarket at a mall in Leki. I had
gone in to buy cereal, fruit juice, and
my daughter's favorite chocolate. I
didn't want any help from my driver that
day. I just wanted to walk like a normal
person. My children, Amelia and George,
were grown now. Amelia had finished university.
university.
George was doing his business training
abroad and visiting Lagos often. They
were adults. That was the promise I made
to myself 15 years ago. The day I
watched my wife fade away in a hospital
bed, I remembered her voice that day,
weak but clear. Nathaniel, she told me,
don't lock your heart forever. But I
did. I locked it. People tried to open
it. My mother, my friends, even my
business partners, Nathaniel,
[clears throat] they would say, "You are
still young. You are lonely. You need a
companion." I would smile and change the
topic. The truth was simple. My wife's
absence followed me everywhere in my
mansion, in my car, in my office, even
in my prayers. So when I reached the
cereal aisle that day in Leki and
someone bumped into my trolley, I was
ready to frown, but the voice I heard
was calm and sweet. I'm so sorry, sir.
Are you okay? I turned. Emerald, neat
hair, clear [clears throat] eyes, soft perfume,
perfume,
a simple dress that did not scream for
attention. She looked genuinely worried,
not fake. It's fine, I said. She bent
quickly to pick up what fell. Then she
smiled. "People rush too much," she said
gently. "Life is not a race. That
sentence stayed with me for days. We
spoke again at the checkout line. She
cracked a small joke. I laughed for the
first time in what felt like years. We
exchanged contact. After that, she did
not beg, she did not chase, she did not
shout. She just talked. Little messages,
simple calls, questions about my day,
kind words. My heart, which had been
sleeping for 15 years, started to wake
up. When I finally introduced her to my
children, Amelia studied her for a long
time. Later that night, Amelia told me,
"Dad, she is nice. Just don't rush. I
promised I would not, but life has a way
of pushing you." My family kept
pressuring me. If you wait too long, you
will never do it. My friend said, "A
good woman is hard to find." Emerald
looked at me one evening at a restaurant
in Ecoy and said, "Nathaniel,
you deserve peace." And my chest felt
warm. So, I asked her to marry me. I
went to see her family with gifts and
respect. I spoke well. I knelt. I did
everything properly. Her mother, Mrs.
Genevie Hawthorne, hugged me like I was
her own son. That hug now felt like a
lie. Our wedding was loud, beautiful,
and expensive. One of those Lagos
weddings that people would talk about
for months. After the celebration, we
lodged in one of the best hotels in
Victoria Garden City. And on our wedding
night, while Emerald thought I was still
outside with my friends, I hid under the
bed to prank her. Now I was under that
same bed listening to her mother say,
"You must never let him find out what
really happened to his first wife." My
fingers curled into the carpet. My eyes
burned. And in that moment, I realized
something terrifying. This was not just
about money. This was about my past. And
whatever secret Mrs. Hawthorne was
guarding, it was about to destroy
everything. Then Emerald finally spoke,
her voice almost shaking. Mommy, please
don't talk about that here. Mrs.
Hawthorne answered coldly. Why not? Your
husband is a widowerower because of it,
and that is why this plan will work. I
clamped my hand over my mouth to stop
myself from making a sound. Because if I
made one sound, just one, they would
know I was under the bed. And I was not
sure I would survive what I was about to
hear next. Under the bed. My body felt
stiff, like it [clears throat] no longer
belonged to me. Mrs. Hawthorne's words
kept turning in my head. Your husband is
a widowerower because of it. Because of
what? I had watched my first wife fade
slowly in a hospital room. I had signed
papers. I had cried until my chest hurt.
Doctors had spoken to me in calm voices.
Cancer, late detection,
no miracle. So, what was this woman
talking about? Emerald shifted on the
bed. I could see her feet from where I
lay. Her toes curled slightly, the way
people do when they are nervous. Mommy,
she said again. This is not the time.
Mrs. Hawthorne scoffed softly. If not
now, when? Tonight is the most important
night of your life. You are now Mrs.
Sterling. Everything changes from here.
There was the sound of a handbag
opening. Something metallic clicked
inside. My breath caught. Emerald
lowered her voice. You didn't bring it,
did you? Of course I did, her mother
replied calmly. But relax. Not today. I
am not foolish. We start gently. Small
steps. Small steps. The room felt
suddenly too small. The air felt heavy.
Mrs. Hawthorne continued, "You will be
loving, caring. You will cook for him.
You will watch what he eats. You will
learn his habits." Emerald nodded, even
though her mother could not see it
clearly. "I already know some of them."
"Good, very good," her mother said. Men
like him relax when they feel
understood, when they feel safe. And
when they relax, they don't notice
changes. I squeezed my eyes shut. This
was not a misunderstanding. This was not
gossip. This was a plan, a slow one, a
careful one. Mrs. Hawthorne added,
"Remember what we discussed. No rush, no
mistakes. We cannot afford attention.
Not from doctors, not from staff, not
from his children. my children. Amelia's
warning echoed in my mind. Dad, don't
rush. My heart twisted with guilt.
Emerald swallowed. And if he suspects,
her mother's answer was sharp. He won't
because he is lonely. And lonely people
believe kindness easily. I felt that
sentence cut into me. For a moment,
neither of them spoke. Then Emerald
asked a question that made my blood run
cold. Mommy, what if he talks about his
first wife again? What if he asks
questions? Mrs. Hawthorne laughed
quietly. Then you listen. You cry if you
must. You tell him how sad it is. And
you remember his first wife's story is
the reason nobody will suspect anything
if his health changes later. My hands
trembled. Later health changes. I could
no longer lie flat. I slowly turned my
face to the side, pressing my cheek into
the carpet to stop myself from making
noise. Mrs. Hawthorne stood up. Her
heels clicked again. "I should go now,"
she said. "People will notice if I stay
too long," she paused. And Emerald,
"Yes, Mommy. Do not fall in love. Love
makes people careless." There was a long
silence. Then Emerald answered very
softly. "I won't." The room door opened.
Closed, locked again. Silence fell like
a heavy blanket. I stayed under the bed,
not moving, not breathing properly.
Minutes passed. Then Emerald sighed
deeply and sat on the edge of the bed.
Her hands rested on her lap. She looked
tired, conflicted. For one foolish
second, my heart wanted to believe she
was pretending for her mother. That
maybe she was trapped, that maybe she
would choose me. Then she spoke quietly
to herself. I have to do this. My hope
shattered. She stood and walked toward
the mirror. I watched her feet move back
and forth. She practiced a smile, a
gentle one, the same smile she used at
the mall. The same smile she used at the
altar. Then she checked her phone and
muttered. He should be back soon. That
was my cue. I slowly pushed myself
backward under the bed, careful not to
touch anything. My chest burned. My mind
raced. I needed time. I needed proof. I
needed to protect my children. I waited
until she stepped into the bathroom. The
sound of running water filled the room.
I slid out quietly, grabbed my shoes,
and slipped into the wardrobe area,
pressing myself behind the hanging
clothes. Moments later, Emerald came out
wrapped in a silk robe. She looked
around, Nathaniel, she called sweetly.
"Are you back?" "I did not answer." She
smiled, thinking I was teasing. "I know
you're hiding somewhere," she said
playfully. "Come out." My jaw clenched.
She walked toward the bed, bent
slightly, and looked underneath. My
heart stopped, but I was no longer
there. She frowned. Then her phone
buzzed in her hand. She glanced at the
screen and her face changed. Not fear,
not joy, relief. She typed quickly and
whispered, "He's not here yet." Under
the clothes in the wardrobe, I felt
something hard press into my back. My
phone. It vibrated once. A message
popped up on the screen. You know, number
number
first dose must look natural. My vision
blurred because I suddenly realized two
things at the same time. One, this plan
had already started. And two, I had just
stepped into a danger I might not
escape. I stayed silent, hidden, as
Emerald turned off the lights and
climbed into bed, still smiling. And in
the darkness, I knew the night was far
from over. My phone screen went dark.
The bathroom door was still closed. The
sound of water filled the room again.
This was my chance. If I stayed hidden
any longer, I would lose my mind. So, I
did the one thing I had planned to do
from the beginning before fear took over
everything. I took a deep breath. Then,
I jumped out. Surprise! My voice
exploded through the room. Emerald
screamed. She spun around so fast she
almost slipped, clutching her robe to
her chest. "Nathaniel," she cried.
"Jesus, where did you come from?" I
laughed loudly, forcing the sound to
come out natural, light, careless. I've
been here, I said, spreading my arms. I
came in while you were bathing. I wanted
to scare you. Her face froze for half a
second. Just half. But I saw it. Her
eyes searched the room quickly. The bed,
the floor, the door. Then she forced a
laugh, placing a hand on her chest. You
nearly gave me a heart attack, she said.
This is not funny. I walked closer,
smiling, playing my role perfectly. You
should have seen your face, I teased. I
was hiding, waiting. My legs are even
hurting. Her smile widened, but it did
not reach her eyes. "Where were you
hiding?" she asked. I shrugged. "Behind
the curtain." I entered quietly when you
were bathing. I wanted to jump out. That
was a lie, but it was the safest one.
She studied me carefully, like she was
measuring something. Then she laughed
again, louder this time. "You are very
silly, Mr. Sterling." She stepped
forward and touched my arm. Her hand
felt warm. Too warm. Why are you fully
dressed? She asked. Didn't you say you
were still with your friends? I came
back early, I replied smoothly. I wanted
to surprise my wife. I leaned in and
kissed her forehead. Her body stiffened
for a brief moment before she relaxed.
Next time, she said softly. Don't scare
me like that. I smiled, but inside my
heart was beating like a drum because as
I held her, I could still hear her
mother's voice in my head. This man is
your ladder. We moved toward the bed
together. She sat. I sat beside her.
Silence stretched between us. She broke
it. My mother came by earlier, she said
casually like she was talking about the
weather. I kept my face calm. Oh, I
didn't see her. Yes, Emerald replied.
She just wanted to check on me. You know
how mothers are. I nodded slowly. Yes, I
know. She watched my face closely. I
smiled back. Neither of us blinked. Then
she stood up suddenly. Let me get you
water. No, I said gently. Too quickly,
she paused. I mean, I added softer.
Later. Let's just talk first, her lips
pressed together for a moment, then she
nodded. All right, she sat again. Are
you happy? She asked me. I looked at
her. The woman I married hours ago. The
woman who smiled at me in a supermarket.
The woman whose phone had just received
a message about a first dose. I am. I
answered slowly. Are you? She smiled. Of
course. Another lie. Then her phone
buzzed again on the bedside table. She
reached for it quickly, but I was
faster. I picked it up. Her eyes
widened. Nathaniel, it's okay, I said
calmly, glancing at the screen. A new
message. Unknown number. Be patient. Do
not rush him. I looked up at her. She
was staring at me now, frozen. The room
felt tight. Very tight. I handed the
phone back to her gently and smiled.
Someone seems eager to talk to you on
your wedding night, I said lightly. She
swallowed and forced a laugh. Just
family. I nodded. Of course, I said. We
lay back on the bed side by side staring
at the ceiling. Her hand slowly reached
for mine. I held it. But this time, my
grip was firm, controlled, because as I
lay there beside my new wife, one truth
became clear in my mind. The prank was
over. The game had changed, and I needed
to pretend just like her. Until I found
out what really happened to my first
wife, and who exactly Emerald Hawthorne
truly was. I closed my eyes, but sleep
did not come because I knew this
marriage had just turned into a quiet
war. I did not sleep that night. Even
when Emerald's breathing became slow and
steady beside me, my eyes stayed open,
fixed on the ceiling of the hotel room.
Every small movement made my heart jump.
Every sound felt louder than it should
be. At exactly 6:15 a.m., I gently
removed my hand from hers and sat up.
Emerald stirred. "Nathaniel," she
murmured half asleep. "I'm here," I said
softly. "Go back to sleep." She opened
one eye and smiled. "Good morning, my
husband." That word husband felt heavy
in my chest. "Good morning, my wife," I
replied. A few hours later, we checked
out of the hotel. The staff smiled at
us. They congratulated us again. They
wished us a happy married life. I smiled
back. I thanked them, but inside I felt
like a stranger walking through my own
life. The drive from Victoria Garden
City to Ecoy was quiet. Emerald sat
beside me in the backseat of the car,
her head resting lightly on my shoulder.
My driver focused on the road ahead.
Lagos moved around us. Cars, people,
shops opening, life going on as usual,
but for me, everything had changed.
You're very quiet today, Emerald said
gently. I'm just tired, I answered. The
wedding was a lot, she nodded. Yes, it
was beautiful though. I said nothing.
When we finally arrived at my house in
Ecoy, the large gates opened slowly. The
mansion stood tall and calm, just like
it always had. But that morning, it did
not feel like home. Emerald's eyes
widened slightly as she looked around. I
still can't believe this is where I'll
be living now, she said with a soft
laugh. I stepped out of the car and
offered her my hand. Welcome home, I
said. The house staff lined up neatly.
Welcome, madam. They said together.
Emerald smiled brightly, waving, "Thank
you. Please don't be formal with me."
They looked at me, "Waiting. Do as she
says." I told them. Inside, the house
was quiet, too quiet. My children were
not around. Amelia had traveled back to
Abuja the day after the wedding. George
was still abroad. That emptiness made
everything worse. Emerald walked around
slowly, touching things, observing.
"This house feels full of memories," she
said. It feels heavy. I looked at her
sharply. What do you mean? She smiled
quickly. Not in a bad way, just
meaningful. We went upstairs to the
master bedroom. She placed her bags on
the bed and sighed happily. I can't wait
to start our life properly, she said.
Cooking for you. Making this place warm.
My chest tightened again. Cooking food.
I forced a smile. You don't have to
rush. She laughed lightly. I want to. I
like taking care of people. I watched
her closely. Her movements were calm,
natural, almost too perfect. Later that
evening, Emerald insisted on making
dinner herself. The staff tried to help,
but she waved them away. I want to do
this alone, she said cheerfully. It's my
first meal as a married woman. I sat in
the dining room pretending to check
emails on my tablet, but my eyes kept
drifting to the kitchen. The sound of
pots, the smell of food. Every sense in
my body was alert. She walked in
eventually, carrying two plates. "Dinner
is ready," she said proudly. She placed
one plate in front of me. "Rice, grilled
chicken, light sauce, my favorite meal."
My heart skipped. "How did you know this
is my favorite?" I asked. She smiled
sweetly. "You mentioned it once." I
picked up my fork, then paused. Emerald
noticed. "Is something wrong?" No, I
said quickly, just thinking. I took a
small bite. She watched me closely. Too
closely. After a moment, she relaxed and
began to eat too. Nothing happened. No
strange taste, no discomfort, but the
fear did not leave me. That night, as we
prepared for bed, Emerald wrapped her
arms around me. "I'm happy, Nathaniel,"
she whispered. I held her. "I hope we
will always be honest with each other,"
I said quietly. She pulled back slightly
and looked at me. "Of course," she said.
"Why wouldn't we be?" I nodded. But deep
inside, one question burned in my mind.
If she could lie so easily. How long had
she been lying already? As we turned off
the lights, her phone buzzed softly on
the bedside table. She reached for it
quickly, then stopped when she realized
I was watching. She smiled. Just family
again. I said nothing. She turned her
back to me and pretended to sleep. I lay
there staring into the darkness of my
Ecoy bedroom. And for the first time in
15 years, I felt unsafe in my own house
because I knew this truth now. Whatever
Emerald and her family were planning, it
had followed me home and it was only
just beginning. Ecoy. Too quietly, I
woke up before Emerald. I lay still,
listening to her breathing. Slow, even
peaceful. She looked innocent when she
slept. That was the hardest part. I
slipped out of bed gently and walked
into the bathroom. I splashed water on
my face and stared at my reflection. The
man staring back at me looked older than
his years. "Think," I whispered to
myself. "Think," I dressed quickly and
went downstairs. The house staff greeted
me. I answered them politely like
nothing was wrong, "Sir," my housekeeper
said. Madam said she will prepare
breakfast. My chest tightened again.
That's fine, I replied calmly.
But make tea as well. I needed something
safe. I sat at the dining table
pretending to read the newspaper. My
eyes moved, but my mind did not. I kept
hearing Mrs. Hawthorne's voice. We start
gently. A few minutes later, Emerald
walked in, smiling brightly. Good
morning, she said cheerfully. I hope you
slept well. Yes, I lied.
you like a baby. She went into the
kitchen. I watched her back as she
walked away. Every step felt measured.
Careful. Soon she returned with
breakfast. Toast, eggs, juice. Simple,
safe, she placed the plate in front of
me and sat opposite. Eat, she said
warmly. You need strength. I picked up
the cup of juice. Then I remembered the
message. First dose must look natural.
My hand stopped midair. Emerald noticed.
You keep pausing when you eat, she said
lightly. Are you not hungry? I am, I
replied. Just distracted. I set the
juice down and picked up the toast
instead. She smiled again. After
breakfast, I stood up. I need to go to
the office just for a short time. Her
smile dropped for a second. So soon? She
asked. I thought we would spend a day
together. About we will? I assured her.
Later, she nodded. All right, I'll stay
home and rest. I leaned forward and
kissed her cheek. Her skin felt warm.
Too warm again. On my way out, I stopped
and turned back. Emerald, I said. Yes.
Did you ever meet my first wife? She
froze just for a moment. Then she shook
her head. No. Why? No reason, I said.
Just curious. She smiled, but her eyes
looked sharp now.
She must have been a wonderful woman.
She was, I replied. I walked out before
she could say more. At the office, I did
not work. I called my old family doctor.
Dr. Lewis. Doctor, I said, keeping my
voice low. I need you to review my late
wife's medical records. There was a
pause. That was a long time ago,
Nathaniel, he said gently. I know, I replied.
replied.
But please, another pause. I'll check
what I can find, he said. Why now?
because something doesn't feel right, I
answered. When I returned home that
evening, Emerald met me at the door.
You're back, she said happily. I missed
you. I smiled. She held my hand and led
me inside. Dinner that night was
prepared by the staff. I felt slightly
safer. After we ate, Emerald suggested
we sit in the living room. She curled
beside me on the couch. Nathaniel, she
said softly. You seem far away today.
I'm just adjusting, I replied. She
rested her head on my shoulder. "You can
trust me," she whispered. "I'm your wife
now." I said nothing. Her phone buzzed.
She tried to ignore it. It buzzed again.
She sighed. Excuse me. She stood up and
walked toward the hallway, answering the
call in a low voice. I stayed still.
Then I heard her say something that made
my heart race. "No, not yet. He's
careful." I stood up quietly and moved
closer. Her voice dropped even lower.
Yes, mommy, I understand. I felt my
stomach twist. She ended the call and
turned around and froze because I was
standing right there. [clears throat]
She forced a smile. "How long have you
been standing there?" "Long enough," I
replied calmly. Her eyes searched my
face. "Who are you talking to?" I asked.
"My mother," she answered quickly. "She
worries too much." I nodded slowly.
"About what?" I asked. She opened her
mouth, then closed it. And in that
silence, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I
looked at the screen. Dr. Lewis is
Nathaniel, we need to talk. There are
things in your late wife's records that
do not add up. My heart dropped. I
looked up at Emerald. She was watching
my face closely, too closely. And in
that moment, I realized something
terrifying. The past I buried 15 years
ago was not dead. It was awake. And it
was about to knock very hard on my door.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket
and forced a smile. Nothing, I said. But
inside, I knew the truth was coming, and
when it did, someone in this house would
be exposed. I did not confront Emerald.
Not yet. That night, I lay beside her in
bed, listening to her breathe, while my
mind replayed Dr. Lewis's message again
and again. Things do not add up. I
waited until Emerald fell asleep before
I quietly picked up my phone and
replied, "We will talk tomorrow morning
in person." I placed the phone back down
and stared at the ceiling. By morning,
my decision was clear. I needed facts,
not emotions. At breakfast, Emerald
acted normal. Too normal. She joked, she
smiled. She asked about my plans. I need
to step out. I told her simply, "I have
something important to handle." She
nodded quickly. I'll be here. I drove
straight to Dr. Lewis's clinic. When I
entered his office, he looked uneasy.
Nathaniel, he said, standing up. I
reviewed everything again. Your wife was
diagnosed with breast cancer. Yes, but
there were substances found in her blood
that had nothing to do with cancer
treatment. My chest tightened. What kind
of substances?
Mild toxins, he replied carefully. Very
small doses. Not enough to kill quickly.
Enough to weaken the body over time, my
hands clenched. Could they have been
accidental? I asked. He shook his head.
Unlikely. My voice came out low. Then
why was it never questioned? Because the
symptoms matched cancer, he said. And
because no one asked. I sat back slowly.
Mrs. Hawthorne's words echoed again.
What really happened to his first wife?
I left the clinic feeling cold inside.
When I returned home in Ecoy, Emerald
met me at the door. "You're back early,"
she said, smiling. "Yes," I replied
calmly. "We need to talk." Her smile
faded slightly. "About what?" "Your
mother," I said. Her eyes widened. "What
about her?" I walked past her into the
living room. "She knows more about my
past than she should," I said quietly.
"And she speaks too freely," Emerald
swallowed. She talks too much sometimes.
I turned to face her fully. Emerald, I
said firmly. Did you know my first wife
before I met you? No, she replied
quickly. Did your mother? I asked. She
hesitated. Just for a second. No, she
said again. That second was enough. I
nodded slowly. All right, I said. Then
tell her to stop calling you about
private matters. She forced a smile. Of
course. That evening, I called my
security chief. From today, I instructed
him. Monitor all food, drinks, and
medication in this house quietly. "Yes,
sir," he replied. I also asked him one
more thing. "Find out everything you can
about the Hawthorne family." That night,
Emerald served dinner again. "I did not
touch the food." "I'm not hungry," I
said. She watched me carefully. "You
hardly eat anymore," she said softly.
"Is something wrong?" I looked straight
at her. No, I replied. I'm just being
careful. Her face stiffened for a moment
before she smiled. Later, when she
thought I was asleep, I felt her move. I
opened my eyes slightly. She reached for
her phone and typed quietly. I could not
see the screen, but I heard her whisper,
"He's changing." I closed my eyes again
because I knew one thing now without
doubt. This marriage was built on lies.
My first wife did not die the way I
believed. And Emerald and her family
were not just chasing money. They were
repeating a pattern. The only question
left was simple and terrifying. How far
had they already gone? And how much time
did I have left? Little did they know
that I am fully prepared. Kindly let us
know your view about this story. Where
are you watching from? Do well to let us
know in the comments below. And don't
forget to like, share, and subscribe for
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