Faking Your Death for a Mistress? I'm Taking Everything You Built!

The first lie at my husband's funeral wasn't spoken by the mistress.

It was the body in the coffin.

***

"Julian was a man of unwavering loyalty," I told the crowd, gripping the edges of the dark walnut podium.

Rain lashed against the stained glass windows of the chapel. A fitting backdrop for a grieving widow.

"He built the Thorne family legacy on a foundation of trust," I continued, scanning the tearful faces of the board members and relatives.

The heavy oak doors at the back of the chapel slammed open.

A gust of damp air swept through the pews. Heads snapped around.

"Liar!" a woman's voice shrieked.s

Clara Vane marched down the center aisle. She dragged a small boy by his wrist, a younger girl trailing behind them. Both children shared my dead husband's sharp jawline and pale blue eyes.

"He trusted no one but me!" Clara yelled, waving a crumpled sheet of parchment in the air. "And you stole what belongs to his real family!"

The chapel erupted in gasps.

My fingers dug into the wood. The raw, suffocating ache in my chest vanished.

"You took advantage of his death to seize the Thorne estate," Clara accused, stopping inches from the front pew. "But Julian left everything to us. I have his true will right here!"

She thrust the paper upward like a trophy.

I stared at the document. A fake. Julian possessed many flaws, but sloppy legal work wasn't one of them.

The weeping widow disappeared. The hunter woke up.

Instead of breaking down, I let out a soft, echoing laugh. The sound silenced the room instantly.

"Security," I instructed, my tone flat. "Escort Ms. Vane and her unfortunate props off the premises."

Two suited men stepped forward from the shadows of the altar.

"Don't touch me!" Clara shrieked, batting a guard's hand away. "They have Julian's blood! Show them the paper, Arthur!"

Uncle Arthur, the oldest living Thorne, stood up from the front row. His face flushed a mottled red.

"Hold on a minute, Eleanor," Arthur barked. "If Julian fathered these children, they have a rightful claim."

"A claim to what, exactly?" I asked.

"To the company. To the assets you've monopolized since the accident." Arthur narrowed his eyes. "We need to verify that document. Your legal standing here is questionable."

Murmurs rippled through the congregation. Cousins and shareholders exchanged hungry glances. They smelled blood in the water.

"My legal standing is absolute," I replied.

I stepped down from the podium and walked until I stood toe-to-toe with Clara.

She tilted her chin up, a smug smirk twisting her painted lips. "Julian promised me he'd leave you."

"Did he?" I asked softly.

I snapped open my black leather clutch.

My hand bypassed the tissues and found the crisp, folded contract I had carried for three years. I pulled it out and held it up for Arthur to see.

"What is that?" Clara demanded, her smirk faltering.

"A non-disclosure agreement," I told the crowd. "Signed by Clara Vane, exchanging her silence for a monthly stipend of fifty thousand dollars."

Clara lunged for the paper. I pulled it back smoothly.

"You violated the terms the second you walked through those doors," I whispered, just loud enough for the front row to hear. "The payments are void."

"You knew?" Arthur stammered, dropping heavily back into his pew.

"Of course I knew," I snapped. "I manage the family trust. Julian couldn't buy a cup of coffee without my approval."

I turned my back on the mistress and addressed the elders directly.

"Julian's affairs were messy. I spent years cleaning them up." I met Arthur's gaze, holding it until he looked away. "Which brings me to my next point."

The sanctuary remained dead quiet.

"Effective tomorrow morning, I am initiating a full internal financial audit of the Thorne Group," I announced.

"You can't do that!" Arthur protested, jumping up again. "The board hasn't voted!"

"I own sixty percent of the voting shares, Arthur. The decision is made."

"An audit will tank our stock!" another cousin yelled from the back.

"An audit will root out the parasites draining this company," I corrected. "Anyone with hidden accounts better clear them out tonight."

I gestured to the guards. "Remove her."

"You'll pay for this, Eleanor!" Clara screamed as the men grabbed her arms. "Julian hated you!"

The children began to cry as they were dragged down the aisle.

I smoothed the front of my black dress and walked back up to the podium.

"As I was saying," I spoke into the microphone, "Julian was a man of many secrets. Let us pray for his soul."

***

The cemetery was a blur of black umbrellas and hollow condolences. By the time I returned to the Thorne estate, the house felt far too quiet.

I bypassed the living room and went straight to Julian's study.

A cardboard box sat on his dark walnut desk. The police had returned his personal effects from the crash site two days ago. I hadn't found the energy to open it until now.

I ripped the tape off the top.

Inside lay a shattered Rolex, his scorched leather wallet, and a set of keys.

I picked up the wallet. The leather flaked off against my thumb.

I pulled out his credit cards, his driver's license, and a few crumpled receipts tucked into the back fold. I flattened the papers on the desk, intending to throw them away.

One slip of paper caught my eye.

It wasn't a restaurant bill. It was a wire transfer confirmation.

Five million dollars. Routed to an offshore account in the Cayman Islands.

I checked the date stamped at the top. October 14th.

My jaw tightened.

October 14th was the day Julian supposedly flew to Tokyo for a telecommunications summit. He had called me from his hotel room, complaining about the jet lag.

Why was he wiring five million dollars from a local bank branch in Chicago on a day he claimed to be in Japan?

I traced the faded ink of the account number.

Clara's fake will. Arthur's panic over the audit. A massive offshore transfer hidden in a dead man's wallet.

Julian's car hadn't just skidded off a wet road.

Someone ran him off the cliff.

And whoever buried Julian's secret was coming for me next.