Chapter 8: Confession
900words
On paper, our arrangement had been a resounding success. The prenuptial agreement outlined a clean separation—a simple divorce filing citing irreconcilable differences, a press release about maintaining business ties despite personal changes, and we would each go our separate ways.
But hearts rarely follow contracts.
"I thought we might celebrate our anniversary," Chris said over breakfast, his tone casual though his eyes watched me carefully. "Before we... finalize things."
I looked up from my coffee. "Celebrate?"
"I have a place in the mountains. Great views. We could drive up, have dinner, watch the sunset." He hesitated. "One last day together before we return to being just business associates."
Just business associates. The words created an unexpected ache in my chest. After a year of shared meals and late-night conversations, of working side by side and gradually sharing the same bed, the thought of returning to formality felt wrong.
"I'd like that," I said softly.
He smiled, relief evident in his expression. "Great. We'll leave after lunch."
As I packed an overnight bag, I contemplated the strange journey of the past year. I had come into this marriage seeking revenge, determined to destroy the man who had killed me in another life. Instead, I had found myself falling for him, abandoning my carefully constructed plans, and now facing the end of a relationship I no longer wanted to lose.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
Chris drove us out of the city in his Maserati, the same car from my memories of that fatal day. As we wound our way up the mountain roads, I couldn't help but notice the parallels—the clear blue sky, the curves of the road, the increasing altitude. My hands clenched involuntarily in my lap.
"Everything okay?" Chris asked, noticing my tension.
"Fine," I lied. "Just enjoying the view."
It was beautiful, breathtaking—and eerily similar to the setting where, in another life, I had met my end.
Chris parked the car near a familiar overlook, the same spot where, in another life, he had pushed me to my death. My heart raced as he turned off the engine.
"Let's stretch our legs before heading to the house," he suggested. "The view from here is spectacular."
I followed him out of the car, fighting the urge to flee. This was ridiculous—this Chris had shown me nothing but kindness and respect for a year. Yet standing at the edge of a cliff with him brought back the terror of falling, the betrayal that had preceded it.
Chris walked to the guardrail and looked out over the valley. The setting sun cast golden light across his profile, highlighting the strong jaw and thoughtful eyes I had come to love.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said quietly.
"Yes," I agreed, keeping a careful distance from both him and the edge.
He turned to face me, his expression suddenly serious. "Lara, there's something I need to tell you."
My pulse quickened. "What is it?"
"I know who Lady Crain is."
Five words, spoken calmly, but they hit me like a physical blow. I froze, unable to form a response, my mind racing through possible denials or explanations.
"What are you talking about?" I managed, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Remember when my security team tracked Lady Crain to Geneva?" he continued, his eyes never leaving mine. "They eventually got a photograph." He paused, watching my reaction carefully. "It was Cindy."
My heart stopped. "Cindy?"
"Yes. At first I was confused—why would your sister be operating against us? But then I looked closer at the pattern of acquisitions, the timing, the strategy." His eyes held mine. "It was too sophisticated for one person working alone."
A small, sad smile crossed his face. "Lady Crain. It's you and Cindy. Your names combined."
My stomach dropped as I realized our mistake. The name had seemed so clever at the time—a private joke between sisters, a signature on our revenge. I never thought anyone would make the connection.
"How long have you known?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the mountain breeze.
"For months now," he admitted.
I remained silent, processing the fact that he had known for months and said nothing.
"What I couldn't figure out," he continued, "was why. Why would my wife and her sister systematically target my company? And then, more puzzling—why save it at the last moment?"
I looked away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze.
"I was prepared for the consequences," he said softly. "When I realized what you'd done, I expected you to finish what you started. But you didn't. You saved us instead."
"I couldn't go through with it," I admitted.
"Why not?"
I met his eyes again, seeing genuine curiosity there. "Because somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you. Despite everything, despite my plans. I fell in love with you."
His expression softened, a vulnerability crossing his features. "I love you too, Lara. That's why I never confronted you about Lady Crain. I wanted to understand first."
He paused for a moment. "Would you tell me why?"
