Chapter 2 - The Ghost Bride

By 3:00 AM, I was sitting in the mahogany-paneled library of my father’s estate. Rebecca, our family’s lead attorney and my father’s most ruthless fixer, sat across from me. She was already in a sharp pantsuit, a tablet glowing in her hands. My father stood by the fireplace, his jaw tight.
"Play it again," my father demanded. I pressed play on my phone. Elias’s voice echoed through the massive room. “She’s about as exciting as plain rice.” My father’s fist hit the mantelpiece, rattling the antique clock.
"I will crush him," Jonathan Wilson growled. "I’ll buy his pathetic little real estate firm by morning and fire him before he even wakes up." "No, Dad," I said, my voice shockingly calm. "That’s too fast. Too easy." Rebecca looked up from her tablet, a dangerous smile touching her lips. "Ella is right. If we just crush him financially from the outside, he gets to play the victim. He’ll tell the world his rich, crazy wife ruined his life."
I nodded. "They want to paint me as unstable? Let’s give them unstable. Let’s make them feel like they are winning, right up until they realize they are standing on a landmine." My phone buzzed on the table. Elias. Calling for the twelfth time.
I picked it up and drafted a text message. “Elias, I’m so sorry. I had a panic attack. I don’t think I’m ready for this. I need a few days alone to clear my head. Please don’t look for me. I’ll come back to the apartment when I’m ready.” I hit send.
A minute later, a reply came through. “Baby, I’m so worried! Take all the time you need. I love you. The apartment will be waiting for you.” I showed the screen to Rebecca. She let out a dry laugh. "He’s thrilled. He gets a free pass to spend his honeymoon with Brenda."
May you like
"Let him," I said. "Rebecca, I need you to freeze the trust account that funded the apartment. But leave the surface paperwork looking identical." "Already on it," Rebecca said, tapping her screen. "The apartment was bought in your name, but since the funds touched his account momentarily, he thinks he has a claim. What he doesn't know is that the wiring account belonged to Wilson Holdings. Legally, the apartment is corporate property. He’s essentially a squatter."
"Good," I murmured. I looked at my father. "Dad, Elias’s firm is trying to land the Ocean View development contract, right?" My father narrowed his eyes. "Yes. They’ve been begging my executives for a meeting for six months." "Give it to them," I said. The fire crackled in the hearth. "But," I added, stepping closer to the flames, "I’ll be the one taking the meeting."