On Halloween My Husband Bet I'd Never Leave Him So I Stopped Waiting novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Thirty-Eight Percent

Her voting shares were forged over to Camille three days ago. She goes to the office and the private elevator freezes with her inside.

I cleaned the burn in the bathroom with cold water and a clean towel.

When I came back out, all three of them were still in my kitchen.

"This is my house," I said. "You are the ones who need to leave."

Russell's face changed.

"I'm your husband."

"Not for much longer."

For one second his panic showed.

Then Paolo glanced at him, and Russell's pride snapped back into place.

"Fine." He took his coat off the chair. "You get one night. Come to the office in the morning and we'll clean up the damage from the party."

At the door he turned.

"You love me, Bianca. Don't make a decision you'll regret."

Camille went out between the two men, and she did not look back.

I locked the door behind them and leaned my forehead on it.

Ten years of Paolo, three years of Russell, and eleven years of Camille, and all three had played with me.

My phone lit up on the counter.

It was a secure message from the Ferraro office in Milan that looks after my holdings.

*Urgent. Kingsley Harbor Group voting rights.*

I opened the attachment standing up.

My thirty-eight percent voting interest in Kingsley Harbor had been transferred to Camille Dorsey on Tuesday.

There was a signature on the authorization page, and it was mine.

I had never seen the page before.

A notary stamp sat beside the signature, with a date from Tuesday.

On Tuesday I had been at the dentist with Camille, who had driven me because I was having a tooth pulled.

I read the page three times.

I photographed the signature and sent it to my mother with a single line: *Forged.*

Then I opened the dressing room camera app, because someone had been in my house on Tuesday.

The Tuesday clip was locked behind a password I did not remember setting.

I saved a copy of the folder to my own cloud account and told no one in the house.

I had helped Russell build that company from a rented office and eleven employees.

My father's trust had put its weight behind every loan he ever signed.

And my husband and my best friend had forged my name and handed the swing vote to her.

Below the attachment, a second message from my mother's office appeared.

*Notice of the guarantee withdrawal was served at midnight. Lenders have seventy-two hours.*

My mother had not waited for breakfast.

I looked at the clock on the stove.

It was nearly two in the morning.

I did not sleep.

At eight I put on a grey suit over the dressing on my waist and took a car to the Kingsley Harbor tower in Midtown.

If I was leaving, I was taking what belonged to me with me.

The guard at the private elevator looked at his screen and did not meet my eyes.

"Mrs. Kingsley. Mr. Kingsley asked that you go straight up."

I stepped into the car and pressed the button for the fortieth floor.

The doors closed.

Halfway up, the floor dropped under my feet.

My stomach lurched.

The lights went out.

I grabbed the rail as the elevator shuddered and stopped between floors.

"Hello?"

Nobody answered.

My phone showed no signal.

I pressed the emergency button again and again.

Nothing happened.

Then the ventilation overhead roared on, and freezing air poured into the car.

Within minutes my teeth were chattering.

I wrapped my arms around myself and pressed every button on the panel.

None of them responded.

The cold kept coming, and it found the burn under my jacket.

I banged on the doors and shouted for the guard downstairs.

Above the panel, the small camera dome showed a steady red light.

Someone was watching me.

I held up my hands to it and mouthed: open.

The red light did not change.

I took off my jacket and wrapped it around my hands, and it was useless.

I screamed the guard's name until my throat gave out.

The camera light stayed red.

I slid down the wall to the floor and pulled my knees up.

My fingers went white, then numb.

My vision started to blur at the edges.

I counted the seconds under my breath so I would not fall asleep.

Somewhere above me a door slammed.

Then the car shook, jerked once, and sank all the way back down.

The doors slid open on the ground-floor lobby.

Russell, Paolo and Camille were standing right outside.

None of them looked surprised.

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