Chapter 4 - Project Bride
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I took the folder from Claire.
PROJECT BRIDE.
The words looked absurd.
Like something from a bad spy novel.
But the photographs inside were real.
My life was real.
My first apartment.
My old Honda.
The elementary school where I taught.
My favorite coffee shop.
A charity fundraiser where Daniel and I had supposedly met by chance.
The folder contained a photograph taken that night.
Daniel standing near the auction table.
Me speaking to another teacher.
Arthur in the background.
Watching.
I looked at my husband.
“You said your father wasn’t there.”
Daniel stared at the photo.
“I didn’t know he was.”
“Why was he watching me?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire opened another section.
Three women.
Each with photographs, work histories, family backgrounds, financial reports.
Potential matches.
One page had a line through a woman named Melissa Crane.
REJECTED—FAMILY INSTABILITY.
Another:
Jennifer Hale.
REJECTED—CAREER RISK.
Then me.
REBECCA MORGAN.
APPROVED.
I felt physically ill.
Daniel whispered, “Dad chose you.”
“No.”
“Rebecca—”
“No.”
I backed away.
Our first meeting.
The fundraiser.
Daniel spilling sparkling water on my sleeve.
Me laughing.
Him offering to replace my ruined raffle ticket.
Coffee the next afternoon.
Three years later, marriage.
Was any of it real?
Daniel grabbed my shoulders.
“I did not know.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I fell in love with you.”
“You met me where he wanted you to meet me.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“He arranged it.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I’m saying whatever Dad did before that night, I didn’t know.”
I wanted to believe him.
My heart did.
My fear didn’t.
Claire pulled another file.
“Daniel.”
He turned.
She held up a financial statement.
“Dad paid the event organizer.”
Daniel took it.
Twenty-five thousand dollars.
Consulting fee.
Three days before the fundraiser.
I remembered the organizer.
A man named Paul.
He had introduced Daniel to my group.
My stomach dropped.
Arthur had built the moment.
But he hadn’t built what followed.
At least I prayed he hadn’t.
Margaret descended the stairs behind us.
She stopped when she saw the files.
“Oh God.”
Claire looked at her.
“You knew about this room.”
“Not what was inside.”
“You knew enough.”
Margaret hugged herself.
“My father-in-law started it.”
“Started what?”
“Selecting people.”
“For marriage?” I asked.
“For the family.”
Daniel stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret sat on the bottom step.
Her face collapsed.
“The Vances believed marriages should strengthen the family. Arthur’s father investigated everyone.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“You mean stalked them.”
“Yes.”
“And Dad continued it.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
I held the folder tighter.
“Why me?”
Margaret looked at Arthur’s notes.
“Educated. No major debt. Stable family history. No criminal background. No connections to competitors.”
I almost laughed.
I had been selected like livestock.
Daniel read farther.
Then his expression changed.
“What?”
He turned the page toward me.
One sentence had been underlined.
SUBJECT DISPLAYS HIGH MORAL RIGIDITY. POTENTIAL COMPLIANCE RISK IF EXPOSED TO INTERNAL FINANCIAL MATTERS.
I stared at it.
Arthur had predicted the exact problem I would become.
And still approved me.
“Why would he choose someone he thought might expose him?”
Daniel looked toward the shelves.
“Because maybe he thought he could control you.”
Claire whispered, “Or break you.”
A noise came from behind the far shelves.
Metal scraping.
We froze.
Daniel raised his phone.
“Who’s there?”
Nothing.
He moved forward.
I grabbed his arm.
“Don’t.”
Another sound.
A door opening.
Then footsteps.
Daniel ran toward them.
A narrow service passage stood behind the shelves.
Empty.
At the far end, daylight.
An exterior exit.
Arthur and Mercer were gone.
Daniel swore.
“We need to copy everything.”
Claire said, “Police.”
“Yes.”
We carried boxes upstairs.
The county officer was still outside making calls.
When he saw the files, his expression changed immediately.
Daniel showed him the forged guardianship documents.
The private medical records.
My photographs.
Claire’s records.
The officer called detectives.
Within an hour, the estate changed from Arthur’s kingdom into a scene filled with uniforms.
Arthur was nowhere to be found.
Neither was Mercer.
Margaret sat with investigators.
Claire refused to leave my side.
Daniel gave a statement.
I gave mine.
A detective named Elena Ruiz took the Project Bride folder personally.
“Do you have somewhere safe to stay?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“No family property.”
I thought of my friend Hannah’s apartment.
“Downtown.”
“Go there.”
“What about Arthur?”
“We’ll find him.”
I didn’t believe that would be easy.
Arthur had spent decades planning for consequences.
Men like him always had exits.
By afternoon, Daniel and I left the estate in an unmarked police vehicle.
Claire and Margaret went separately.
We arrived at Hannah’s apartment just after five.
She was out of town but gave us the code.
Daniel locked every door.
I sat on the couch.
For the first time since the previous night, we were alone.
He looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For bringing you into this family.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have.”
“You were raised in it.”
“That isn’t an excuse.”
“No.”
We sat in silence.
Then I asked the question I feared most.
“Was our marriage real to you?”
His eyes filled.
“Every second.”
“Even if the meeting wasn’t?”
“Yes.”
I wanted to believe him.
Then his phone buzzed.
A secure cloud alert.
LOGIN ATTEMPT BLOCKED.
Daniel sat upright.
“Someone tried the account.”
“Arthur?”
“Probably.”
“Can he get in?”
“No.”
Another alert appeared.
PASSWORD RESET REQUESTED.
Then another.
And another.
Someone was trying desperately.
Daniel opened his laptop.
The foundation archive was still there.
He started downloading everything to a new encrypted drive.
I watched filenames scroll.
Invoices.
Property deeds.
Medical contracts.
Settlement records.
One directory stood out.
BRIDE PROGRAM.
Daniel opened it.
My stomach clenched.
Inside were subfolders.
Mine.
Claire’s former roommate.
Two other women.
And a folder labeled TERMINATED.
Daniel clicked.
A woman’s photograph appeared.
Red hair.
Early thirties.
Name: Laura Benton.
Status: DECEASED.
I stared.
“What happened to her?”
Daniel searched.
Laura had dated Daniel five years before we met.
He had told me about her.
Briefly.
They had separated after she moved to California.
“That’s Laura.”
His voice barely worked.
“You said she moved.”
“That’s what Dad told me.”
“When did she die?”
He opened the record.
No death certificate.
Only internal notes.
SUBJECT BECAME NONCOMPLIANT.
DISCLOSED FINANCIAL QUESTIONS.
TRANSFER COMPLETED.
Daniel went pale.
“Transfer where?”
Another document referenced the Connecticut psychiatric facility.
The same place Claire had been sent.
A note from Dr. Mercer.
PATIENT DISCHARGED TO EXTERNAL CARE.
No address.
No physician.
Nothing.
I looked at Daniel.
“She might not be dead.”
His eyes snapped to mine.
“Status says deceased.”
“That could mean something else.”
His hands shook.
He searched Laura’s name online.
No obituary.
No death notice.
No public record.
Then I remembered the boxes.
The codes.
Some names marked closed.
Some transferred.
Some terminated.
“What if Arthur made people disappear?”
Daniel stared at the screen.
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
We looked at each other.
He answered on speaker.
“Hello?”
Static.
Then a woman whispered.
“Daniel?”
His face changed.
“Who is this?”
A pause.
“It’s Laura.”
He stopped breathing.
The woman continued.
“Don’t tell the police yet.”
Daniel gripped the phone.
“Laura, where are you?”
Her next words came fast.
“Your father knows Rebecca found the files.”
I leaned closer.
“Laura?”
She heard me.
“Rebecca, listen carefully.”
A sound behind her.
A door.
She whispered, “He didn’t drug you to make you sleep.”
My blood went cold.
“Then why?”
The line crackled.
“He needed to see if your body would tolerate the next dose.”
Daniel stood.
“What next dose?”
Laura began to answer.
Then someone shouted her name.
The call disconnected.
A second later, Daniel received a text.
One address.
One time.
MIDNIGHT.
May you like
And beneath it:
COME ALONE OR REBECCA LEARNS WHAT THEY ALREADY PUT INSIDE HER.
