Chapter 2 - THE WIFE HE DECLARED DEAD
There are betrayals that break your heart.
Then there are betrayals so absurd they make you forget to cry.
I stared at the document.
DECEASED SPOUSE: SOPHIA COLE.
Date of death: seven months earlier.
Ethan took one step toward me.
“Sophia, I can explain.”
The ballroom had become painfully quiet.
I lifted my eyes.
“You reported me dead?”
Khloe whispered, “Ethan…”
“Not here,” he hissed.
That almost made me smile.
He was worried about embarrassment.
After everything.
Charles Whitaker’s expression hardened.
Arthur stood beside me like a silver-haired executioner.
Ethan lowered his voice.
“It was a mistake on the application.”
“A mistake?”
“Yes.”
“You accidentally wrote that your living wife died seven months ago?”
“I didn’t fill out the form myself.”
“Who did?”
His eyes flicked toward Khloe.
There.
One second.
That was all I needed.
Khloe saw it too.
Her face tightened.
“I only helped with some paperwork.”
I turned toward her.
“Did you also accidentally describe yourself as his fiancée?”
Her lips parted.
“I—”
“Because that section appears remarkably deliberate.”
Murmurs moved through the room.
Ethan’s humiliation finally outweighed his arrogance.
He grabbed my elbow.
“Enough.”
Every Kensington security officer within sight moved.
Ethan noticed.
His hand dropped.
I looked at where he had touched me.
“Never do that again.”
His face changed.
For the first time tonight, he understood something.
This was not his room.
These were not his people.
And I was not the woman waiting at home for permission to matter.
Charles stepped closer.
“Is there a problem, Sophia?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Ethan.
“But apparently I’ve been dead for months, so perhaps my opinion doesn’t count.”
Several guests laughed nervously.
Ethan went pale.
Khloe whispered something and attempted to leave.
Arthur blocked her with perfect politeness.
“Miss Vane, security has requested that all guests remain until a registration discrepancy has been resolved.”
Her eyes widened.
“What discrepancy?”
Arthur looked toward me.
I handed him the document.
“This one.”
The music did not resume.
Dinner did not continue.
Within five minutes, Kensington Hall’s legal counsel entered.
Ethan pulled me aside near the library doors.
“Sophia, please.”
That word.
Please.
He remembered it now.
“What?”
“I did not report you dead.”
“Your signature is on the form.”
“My assistant submitted it.”
“Who is your assistant?”
His silence answered.
“Khloe?”
“It’s complicated.”
“No. Tax law is complicated. Quantum physics is complicated. Sleeping with another woman while telling your wife she isn’t sophisticated enough for your party is actually very simple.”
His eyes flashed.
“You don’t know everything.”
“Then enlighten me.”
He looked around.
“This is insane. You let me spend six years thinking your family was ordinary.”
I almost laughed.
“That’s what you care about?”
“You lied.”
“I told you my surname before we married.”
“You never said you were one of those Kensingtons.”
“One of those?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I knew you didn’t.”
His jaw clenched.
“How wealthy are you?”
The question finished what little remained of my heart.
Not: Are you okay?
Not: Did I hurt you?
Not even: Can our marriage survive this?
How wealthy are you?
I stepped backward.
“Enough.”
“Sophia—”
“Enough to know exactly what kind of man I married.”
I walked away.
Ten minutes later, Charles found me in my father’s old library.
The mahogany shelves still smelled the same.
“You all right?” he asked.
“No.”
“Good answer.”
I laughed despite myself.
Charles poured water instead of alcohol.
Then he said something strange.
“You should speak with your attorney before you confront Ethan again.”
“Why?”
“Because Cole Dynamics is negotiating a financing round.”
I knew Ethan’s company was seeking funding.
He had complained about it for months.
“What does that have to do with me?”
Charles’s expression became serious.
“The lead investor is Kensington Capital.”
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t approve anything.”
“You didn’t need to. The preliminary review came through the growth committee.”
I stared at him.
“How much?”
“One hundred twenty million dollars.”
My pulse thudded.
Ethan had spent months pursuing the biggest deal of his career.
And he had never realized the capital came from my family.
Charles continued.
“Final authorization requires the chairwoman’s signature.”
Mine.
I closed my eyes.
The irony would have been funny if it didn’t hurt so badly.
Then Arthur entered.
He carried Ethan’s membership application and a second folder.
“Miss Kensington, security found something else.”
“What?”
“Mr. Cole submitted proof of widowhood.”
My blood went cold.
“That’s impossible.”
Arthur handed me the paper.
It was a death certificate.
My death certificate.
Official seal.
Registration number.
Physician’s signature.
May you like
It looked real.
And according to the state of New York, Sophia Elise Cole had legally died seven months ago.
