Chapter 7 — The Last Lie
The photograph slipped from my trembling hands.
I looked at my father.
He had always been the strongest man I knew.
Now...
He looked twenty years older.
His shoulders sagged.
His eyes were filled with something I'd never seen before.
Shame.
"Tell me..." I whispered.
"Tell me it's not true."
He closed his eyes.
"It is."
The words hit harder than any scream.
"I loved your mother," he said.
"But before I met her... I became obsessed with another woman."
"The woman who became his mother."
He pointed toward my husband.
"I couldn't accept that she chose another man."
"I abused my family's influence."
"I convinced myself that if I couldn't have her... no one would."
His voice broke.
"I never ordered anyone to kill."
"I only wanted them to bring her back."
"But the men I hired were criminals."
"They beat his father to death."
"And when she saw the man she loved lying in his own blood..."
My father began to cry.
"She ended her life."
"I've lived with that guilt every single day."
I turned toward my husband.
"So everything..."
"Our meeting."
"Our relationship."
"Our wedding."
"It was revenge."
He nodded.
"From the very beginning."
Then he reached into his jacket.
Not for a weapon.
For another envelope.
He threw it onto the floor.
Inside were years of photographs.
Me.
At school.
At college.
On birthdays.
Leaving work.
He had been watching me for nearly fifteen years.
"I knew the exact day I'd marry you," he said quietly.
"Long before you even knew my name."
A chill ran through my entire body.
May you like
I hadn't fallen in love by chance.
I had been chosen.
