Chapter 4: The Architect’s Counter-Plan
I didn’t storm into the kitchen. The structural engineer in me knew that a direct hit on a compromised structure would only lead to a messy collapse. I needed a controlled demolition.
I backed out of the house, drove around the block until my hands stopped shaking, and then returned with a stack of pizzas and a smile that felt like a surgical mask. Jenna greeted me with a kiss that tasted like copper and lies.
Over the next few days, I played the part of the overwhelmed, doubting guardian. I sat her down and sighed, leaning into the trap I was building.
“Maybe you’re right, Jen,” I said, looking defeated. “Maybe I can’t do this. Maybe the girls would be better off with a professional foster family. We’re just… substitutes.”
Her eyes practically glowed. “Oh, James, that’s so mature of you. It’s the best thing for everyone.”
“You’re right,” I said, forcing a smile. “And if we’re going to do this, let’s stop waiting. Let’s get married this weekend. Let’s make it a fresh start. We’ll invite everyone—my colleagues, my mom’s old friends, your whole family. A celebration of our future.”
She was calling florists before the sun came up the next morning. She was so blinded by the prospect of the insurance money and the house deed that she didn’t see the camera I had installed in the living room, or the audio recorder tucked behind the cinnamon bun tray.
Chapter 5: The Grand Unveiling
The ballroom of the Grand Oak Estate was a cathedral of curated perfection. Every inch of the space had been transformed into a shrine to Jenna’s vision of a high-society union. The air was thick with the scent of five hundred white lilies—a fragrance so cloying it felt like it was trying to mask the scent of something decaying beneath the floorboards. Floating candles in crystal cylinders lined the perimeter, their flickering flames reflected in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, creating an infinite hallway of light.
