My Husband's Perfect Deception

Name: My Husband's Perfect Deception
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Gavin

Short stories | Completed

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For five years, my life was perfect. I was the political genius who put my father on a path to the White House. My charming husband, Christian, adored me. It was all a meticulously crafted lie. His ex-fiancée, Isabelle, the one they told me died in a car crash? She wasn't dead. I found her living in a secluded estate with my husband and their four-year-old son. My own father was funding their secret life. My entire family was in on it. Then I found the video. My father, my stepmother, and Christian, all planning my character assassination. "We paint her as emotionally volatile, a liability," my father said. "We discredit her before she can discredit us." They weren't just hiding a secret. They were prepared to destroy me to protect it. The family I thought was my anchor was my prison, and the man I loved was my warden. The idealistic girl who craved her father's approval died right there. She was replaced by a cold, precise fury. I copied their entire secret life onto an encrypted flash drive. I built their dynasty. And now, I was going to be the one to burn it to ash.

Family Betrayal Revenge Drama Kickass Heroine

Chapter 10

Yesterday 11:38

Chapter 1

For five years, my life was perfect. I was the political genius who put my father on a path to the White House. My charming husband, Christian, adored me.

It was all a meticulously crafted lie.

His ex-fiancée, Isabelle, the one they told me died in a car crash? She wasn't dead. I found her living in a secluded estate with my husband and their four-year-old son.

My own father was funding their secret life. My entire family was in on it.

Then I found the video. My father, my stepmother, and Christian, all planning my character assassination.

"We paint her as emotionally volatile, a liability," my father said. "We discredit her before she can discredit us."

They weren't just hiding a secret. They were prepared to destroy me to protect it. The family I thought was my anchor was my prison, and the man I loved was my warden.

The idealistic girl who craved her father's approval died right there. She was replaced by a cold, precise fury.

I copied their entire secret life onto an encrypted flash drive. I built their dynasty.

And now, I was going to be the one to burn it to ash.

Chapter 1

For five years, my life was perfect.

I was Elara Vance, the political genius. The one who pulled my estranged father, Senator Franklin Vance, from the brink of obscurity and put him on a path to the White House.

I came back into the family fold, and they welcomed me with open arms. My powerful father praised my talent. My charming husband, Christian Morrow, a rising star lawyer, adored me.

They were the family I had always dreamed of, after a lonely childhood raised abroad by my mother. This perfect life was my reward.

It was also a meticulously crafted lie.

Five years ago, they told me Christian' s former fiancée, Isabelle Hobbs, had died in a tragic accident. A car crash. It was a clean break, a sad end to a story that belonged to a rival political family.

I never liked Isabelle. Even in the stories I heard, she sounded entitled and manipulative. But her death was presented as a tragedy that bonded us. It was the event that allowed Christian to move on, to find me. It was the clean slate on which we built our perfect marriage.

Her supposed death was the foundation of my new life.

Now I know that a foundation built on a lie is just sand, waiting for the tide to come in.

The tide came in on a Tuesday. I was reviewing campaign donation records, a routine task. A series of large, recurring payments to a "Wellness Center" caught my eye. They were flagged under miscellaneous expenses, coded to a discretionary fund my father controlled. It was sloppy. Not our usual standard.

My GPS took me down a winding road, far from the city. I thought it was a mistake. The address led to a private, unmarked gate. High-end. Secluded. Not a place for campaign business.

Curiosity got the better of me. I parked down the road and walked. The gate was for "The Serenity Meadow Retreat." I' d never heard of it. I found a gap in the dense hedge line and pushed through.

What I saw didn't make sense.

A sprawling lawn, a modern glass house. A woman with familiar blonde hair was laughing, chasing a small child.

My breath caught. It was Isabelle Hobbs.

She was not dead. She was very much alive.

And then Christian walked out onto the patio. My Christian. He scooped the little boy into his arms. The boy squealed and wrapped his arms around Christian' s neck. Isabelle came up behind them, resting her head on Christian's shoulder. They looked like a perfect family.

My mind refused to process it. It was like watching a movie with actors who looked like people I knew.

But it was them. That was Christian' s smile, the one he gave me this morning. That was Isabelle, older, but unmistakably her.

And the child... he had Christian' s dark hair and, even from a distance, I could see the shape of his eyes. He looked to be about four years old.

The math was a cold, hard slap.

The world tilted. The air in my lungs turned to poison. I crouched behind a thicket of rose bushes, the thorns digging into my jacket.

I stayed hidden, my body shaking. I watched them. Watched them live a life I never knew existed.

"Daddy, push me!" the little boy yelled, running to a swing set.

Daddy.

The word echoed in the silent, screaming space inside my head.

Christian laughed and pushed the boy on the swing. Isabelle brought him a glass of what looked like lemonade. She kissed Christian, a long, lingering kiss. A kiss of people who had been together for years.

This wasn't a fling. This was a life. A whole secret life.

My entire marriage, my return to my family, it was all a stage. And I was the lead actress who didn't know the play was a tragedy.

The wellness center wasn't for wellness. It was a holding company. A front to launder money to fund this secret.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from my stepmother, Gwyn.

"Hope you're having a productive day, dear. Your father is so proud of you."

The hypocrisy was so sharp it made me want to vomit.

They knew. My father, with his discretionary fund. Gwyn, with her perfectly curated social life. They were paying for this. They were all in on it.

My fingers were numb as I typed a message to Christian.

"Just saw someone who looked exactly like Isabelle Hobbs near the old marina. So strange. Made me think of you."

I sent it.

My phone rang almost instantly. It was Christian. His name on my screen was a mockery.

I let it ring three times, then answered, forcing my voice to sound tired, normal.

"Hey, you."

"Elara? Where are you?" His voice was tight with panic.

"Still at the office. Drowning in spreadsheets," I lied smoothly. "Why? What's up?"

"Your text," he said, the tension easing slightly from his voice. "It just... caught me off guard."

"I know, it was weird. Probably just someone who looked like her. You know how it is. Long day. My eyes are playing tricks on me." I let out a small, fake yawn.

"Yeah. Yeah, probably," he said, his relief palpable. "You sound exhausted. You should come home."

"I will soon," I promised. "Love you."

"Love you too," he said, and hung up.

The lie came so easily to him. I stared at my phone, at his name. The man I loved didn't exist. He was a character, a role he played for me.

The woman who loved him, the idealistic girl who craved her father's approval, died right there among the thorns.

She was replaced by a cold, precise fury.

The love I felt for them wasn't an anchor. It was a cage. And I was finally ready to break the lock.