Chapter 2: The Secret Behind The Accident
Victoria stared at the phone screen as if the image itself had betrayed her.
“No,” she whispered.
Her lips trembled.
“That’s impossible.””
I stood in the middle of the dining room, no longer the helpless husband everyone pitied.
For months, I had hidden my recovery.
Not because I was ashamed.
Because I needed the truth.
“Impossible?”” I repeated.
Victoria looked around desperately.
Her eyes moved from me to Martha, then back to the broken cup on the floor.
“You were pretending?””
I nodded.
“Yes.””
The mansion felt colder than ever.
Martha slowly stood up, still holding her cheek.
“Mr. Blackwood… why didn’t you tell anyone?””
I looked at her.
Because Martha was the only person in this house who still treated me like a human being.
“Because I needed to know who was waiting for me to stay broken.””
Victoria’s face hardened.
“You think you’re clever?””
Her voice changed.
The sweet wife was gone again.
“You think showing a video means you know everything?””
I watched her carefully.
“Are you saying the video is fake?””
She opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Because she knew there was no way out.
Victoria walked toward the table and grabbed the back of a chair.
“You have no idea what I’ve sacrificed for you.””
Martha looked shocked.
“Sacrificed?””
Victoria turned toward her.
“Yes. I gave up my life taking care of him.””
I laughed quietly.
“Taking care of me?””
I pointed toward the wheelchair.
“The same wheelchair you used to convince everyone I was powerless?””
Her eyes narrowed.
“You don’t understand anything.””
“Then explain it.””
Silence filled the room.
For the first time, Victoria had no prepared answer.
I moved closer.
“Tell me why you contacted my lawyer two weeks after my accident.””
Her expression changed.
A tiny reaction.
But enough.
Martha looked between us.
“Your lawyer?””
I nodded.
“My original lawyer received a request to change my estate documents while I was still unconscious.””
Victoria immediately interrupted.
“That’s a lie.””
“No,” I said.
“It isn’t.””
I pulled another file from my desk drawer.
Not a document for her to read.
Just proof that I knew.
“You thought I would never recover. You thought the man who built a billion-dollar company would spend the rest of his life unable to question anyone.””
Victoria’s face turned pale.
Then suddenly, she smiled.
A small, confident smile.
“You really think this ends with tea?””
The room went quiet.
I studied her expression.
She wasn’t scared anymore.
That bothered me.
“What does that mean?””
Victoria slowly walked toward the window.
“You spent months watching me.””
She looked back.
“But you never asked why I wanted you gone.””
Martha frowned.
“What are you talking about?””
Victoria looked directly at me.
“Because your accident was never an accident.””
My heart stopped for a moment.
The words hit harder than anything else she had said.
I had spent six months believing Victoria was simply a greedy wife.
Someone who wanted my money.
Someone who wanted my inheritance.
But now she was telling me something different.
Something impossible.
“What did you just say?”” I asked.
Victoria smiled.
“I said your accident was planned.””
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Martha covered her mouth.
I stared at Victoria.
“Who?””
She stepped closer.
“Ask yourself one question, Ethan.””
Her voice dropped.
“Who benefited the most when the great Ethan Blackwood became unable to run his company?””
I felt a cold feeling move through my chest.
Because I already knew the answer.
My family.
My business partners.
The people who had been standing beside me while I fought to rebuild my life.
Victoria reached into her purse.
Then she pulled out something I never expected to see.
A photograph.
She placed it on the table.
“Before you accuse me of murder…”
She looked at me.
“Find out who ordered your accident first.””
I stared at the photograph.
And when I recognized the person standing beside the crashed car, my entire world changed.
Because it was someone I trusted more than anyone.
May you like
Someone who had visited me in the hospital every single day.
My own brother.
