Never Forgive: His Betrayal, Her Justice
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, blocked the ambulance carrying him to the hospital.
rugged me and deleted the video evidence from my phone. Just
mocked my father's death. He held me down
an eye," he
or stealing a necklace and forced me to wal
y father's body thrown into the ocean,
l agreement that entitled me to half of Cornell's billion-dollar empire, and a secret, encrypted copy of the
pte
iet of the apartment. Chloe Welch looked up from her canvas,
Welch?" a rus
id, her heart s
in an accident. He's at New York Ge
her mind a blank wall of panic. She called her husband, Cornell Welch,
e was an accident. I'm o
ntly. "I'm leaving the office now. D
ght, every honking taxi felt like a heavy blow. She finally broke free onto a clearer stretch of road, only to
k behind it, its sire
e hair and a glittering dress leaned out of the sports car's
ed to someone in the car
ornell's main investor. Chloe knew her. She was a permanent fixture i
d, leaning out her own window.
g a flicker of recognition. A smirk played on her lips.
chorus of rage against the entitled girl in the red car. Finally, after what felt like an eter
llowed, her hands shaking so hard she
aiting area, his handsome face etched wit
ws?" he
ment, she felt safe. Cornell was a tech billionaire, a man w
me out, his face gr
blood
tle. "Your father suffered a major cardiac event. The delay
gave out, and Cornell caught her, holding her up as a wave of blackness threatened to pull her und
an accident. He cou
ad seen the person responsible. She had seen Kenya Cline, drunk and laughi
ing but clear. She described Kenya's car, her drunken state, the way she del
it, ma'am," the
hen two. She called the stati
it wasn't Kenya Cline. It was her personal driver, a man in his fifties with a tired, defeated fa
nsulting lie. Chloe had se
phone. It was shaky, filmed through her windshield, but it was clear enough. It showed Keny
ills from the video, writing a detailed timeline. This was what
, the sleek, minimalist space that overlooked Central
capegoat," Chloe s
is expression unreadable. "I heard.
killed my father, and her family is paying someone
man, charismatic and powerful, used to commanding every r
perceptibly. "Chloe, we have
more sensible th
ate. "Kenya's father, Douglass, is my primary investor. The Cline family and the Welch family have re
orrifying suspicion dawn
uglass is taking care of it. He feels terrible about what happened. He's ens
ated? My father is dead, Cornell. D
he said, his words precise and cold. "K
ow? By getti
ng, Chloe. You're
issal. She felt a tremor of pure rage. "I am not being hys
is bein
you're helping them. You're choosing yo
otecting our family. Our legacy. What's done is done.
had loved, who she had put her own artistic career on hold for, was a s
aid, her voice low and dangerous.
the narcissist behind the charming mask, the m
e a fool
reason why
and poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed one
r liquid, then back at his face. She saw no
she knew so well. It was a performance. "Tomorrow, we'll talk about setting up a charitab
ory? By burying the truth of h
e room spun. She put her hand on the desk to steady h
d, her tongue feeling t
pick up her phone from the desk, his t
him say, his voice seeming to come from a great distanc
umed her was her phone, now in his hand, and th
eyes. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling win
r ribs. She went to her photo gallery. The video of Kenya Cline was gone. She ch
ped it. A
ed for the paper fol
to destroy the evidence that would bring her fat
He had actively, cruelly, and methodically conspired against h
ce, something new and terrible began to grow. It was a quiet, methodical res
ars ago, shortly after their wedding, he had sat her down. "Chloe, I love that you're happy," h
ad, drafted by his own hand. At the time, Chloe had thought
s her escape. And it would
losed her eyes and let the tears of grief and betrayal finally fall. But t
d make them pay for what they did, not with money, but with their freedom, their reputations,