Victor’s charm cracked for the first time.
“Clara,” he said quickly, “they’re trying to control you.”
That word had always worked before.
Control.
He used it to turn my questions into accusations, my warnings into jealousy, and my love into a cage.
But fear was now showing through his expensive suit.
Ruth handed Clara another folder.
“Three prior engagements,” Ruth said. “Two civil claims. One previous attempt to pressure a fiancée into taking money from her mother.”
At the back of the room, a woman in a gray dress stood.
“He did the same to me,” she said quietly. “When the money froze, he disappeared.”
Victor snapped, “She’s lying.”
Clara stepped away from him.
“Did you know the house couldn’t be sold?” she asked.
Victor said nothing.
His silence did what my warnings never could.
It opened her eyes.
