Chapter 11 - THE PLAN HE NEVER FINISHED
The police found Trent's abandoned Audi beneath an overpass near the Chicago River.
The driver's door was open.
His phone lay on the passenger seat.
And a handwritten note was tucked beneath the windshield wiper.
She belongs to me.
When the detective showed me the photograph, my hands began shaking.
Victor stood beside me.
He didn't touch me without asking.
He simply said, "You're not alone."
For once, I believed him.
Martin Hayes had been arrested on charges connected to financial fraud and obstruction.
Investigators were also examining evidence related to Elena Romano's death.
But Trent remained missing.
That frightened me more than his father's arrest.
Martin wanted money.
Power.
Control.
Trent wanted me.
And I'd learned that men who believed people were possessions became most dangerous when they realized they had lost control.
The detective recommended a safety plan.
I agreed.
I temporarily stayed with Sarah in a secure apartment building.
I changed my phone number.
My workplace arranged additional access controls.
And I began counseling with a therapist who specialized in intimate partner abuse.
For the first time, I was doing things because they made me safer.
Not because Trent allowed them.
Three days later, I received a message from an unknown number.
I know where you are.
My heart stopped.
A photograph followed.
Sarah's apartment building.
Taken that morning.
I immediately contacted the detective.
Then another message arrived.
Come alone, or Sarah pays for your disobedience.
My breathing became shallow.
For a moment, the old fear returned.
The instinct to obey.
To apologize.
To do whatever Trent wanted before someone else got hurt.
Then I remembered Victor's words.
You don't owe anyone your fear.
I forwarded everything to the detective.
I didn't answer Trent.
Within an hour, officers were positioned near Sarah's building.
Investigators traced the messages to a phone registered under a false identity.
Then they found an address.
An abandoned commercial building near the port district.
Victor recognized it immediately.
"That's one of Martin Hayes's old properties."
The police prepared an operation.
I stayed at the apartment.
I wanted to help.
I wanted to confront Trent.
But I knew my safety mattered more than satisfying the part of me that wanted to see him frightened for once.
Hours passed.
Then my phone rang.
The detective.
"We located him."
I sat upright.
"Trent?"
"Yes."
"Is he alive?"
"Yes."
"Was anyone hurt?"
"No."
I closed my eyes.
Relief washed through me.
Then the detective continued.
"He had several documents with your name on them."
My stomach tightened.
"What documents?"
"False identification records. Property transfer forms. And a marriage license application."
I stared at the wall.
A marriage license.
Trent had been planning something far worse than another argument.
He had been preparing to make our relationship legally binding through deception.
May you like
And the most frightening document wasn't the marriage application.
It was a forged power of attorney giving him control over my finances and personal affairs.
