My Greedy Fiancée Framed My Wife Five Years Ago—Now She Just Walked In With My Secret Twin Sons

Grant gestured toward the private study adjoined to the suite, leaving Natalie with the boys for a moment. Marcus plugged the silver flash drive into Grant’s desktop workstation. Within seconds, multiple folders appeared on the ultra-wide monitor, filled with audio recordings, scanned banking documents, and text message archives dating back seven years.

""Courtney didn't just stumble into your company as an executive assistant, Grant,"" Marcus said, pulling up an old background report that had clearly been wiped from corporate HR records. ""Her real name is Courtney Vance, daughter of Arthur Vance.""

Grant felt the air leave his lungs in an instant. ""Arthur Vance? The founder of Vantage Holdings? The man who tried to bankrupt my father fifteen years ago?""

""The very same,"" Marcus confirmed, clicking open a series of wire transfer receipts. ""Her father went into financial ruin after your father won the landmark municipal development contract. Courtney entered your company under her mother's maiden name, targeting you from day one. Her entire mission was to dismantle your marriage, isolate you from your family, and funnel your operational capital back into her family's dying holding firm.""

Grant watched in horror as emails flickered across the screen. There were detailed instructions sent to private investigators to stage compromising photos of Natalie. Courtney had paid a photographer eighty thousand dollars to photoshop Natalie's head onto another woman's body leaving a boutique hotel in Dallas. There were also records of payments made to an offshore pharmaceutical supplier for synthetic sedatives—the very drugs slipped into Natalie’s drink during a charity gala five years ago.

""And the two million dollars she claimed Natalie stole?"" Grant asked, his hands shaking so violently he had to brace himself against the edge of the mahogany desk.

""Funneled directly into a shell corporation registered in the Cayman Islands under Courtney’s name,"" Marcus replied. ""She has been quietly liquidating small tranches of your private stock over the past eighteen months. She was preparing to file for common-law marriage status next month, which would have entitled her to half of your real estate portfolio if you two separated.""

The sheer magnitude of his own stupidity crushed Grant. He had discarded the most loyal, loving partner he had ever known, all for a woman who viewed him as nothing more than a bank vault to be looted in revenge. He had let his sons grow up in poverty, eating cheap canned food while he dined in Michelin-star restaurants with the monster who engineered their misery.

A knock sounded at the study door. Natalie stepped inside, her expression guarded. ""Grant, Leo fell asleep on the couch, and Noah wants to know if we can go home now.""

Grant turned to look at her, the monitor behind him still glowing with the evidence of her absolute innocence. ""You're not going back to that apartment, Natalie. Not tonight. Not ever.""

""You don't get to tell me what to do anymore,"" she retorted, crossing her arms defensively.

""Look at this screen, Natalie,"" Grant choked out, tears finally spilling over his lashes. ""Look at what she did to us.""

Natalie walked over to the desk, her eyes scanning the folders and transcripts. For several minutes, the only sound in the room was the hum of the computer fan. When she saw the photo of the waiter receiving an envelope of cash behind the gala venue, a single tear tracked down her cheek, washing away five years of bottled-up self-doubt.