I Said 'I Do' to My Mother's Killer - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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My body froze in shock. Before I could react, someone shoved me hard from behind, sending me sprawling to the ground as they swept Taylor into their arms.
Matt's eyes burned with fury as they locked onto me. "What the hell, Fiona?" he spat, voice trembling with rage. "Have you lost your mind? Taylor came here to make peace and clear the air about what happened back then. Who gave you the right to lay hands on her?"
The warmth he'd once reserved for me was gone - his gaze now held nothing but cold contempt.
I forced a bitter smile. "She brought up my mother, Matt. Don't you think I deserve some answers about what really happened?"
A flicker of panic crossed his face before his expression hardened. "What's there to explain? Your mother's surgery failed because she was too far gone. You know that." He squared his shoulders. "Whatever happened back then doesn't excuse this. Apologize to Taylor. Now."
Before I could respond, Taylor clutched his shoulder, her voice quivering. "Please...don't be too hard on Fiona. After Gregg called off their engagement...I know how much she's suffered. Let this be my way of making it up to her." She sniffled dramatically. "If she hates me this much...maybe we should just stay away from each other. I don't want to cause trouble for you."
My fists clenched so tightly I felt blood well where my nails bit into my palms. Watching them walk away, their bodies pressed together, I knew - it was over.
I turned back to the box, feeding its contents to the flames. Five years of love reduced to ashes in minutes.
An hour later, Matt's text arrived: [Taylor's leading the O'Donnell project. You attacking her jeopardized the company. When I made you apologize, it was just damage control - playing along for her benefit. Don't overthink it.]
[I'll come home tonight and make it up to you. Remember that gift I promised? Just stay calm, okay?]
But I knew the truth. That performance wasn't for Taylor - it was for me. Five years of his charade had finally ended.
I waited with divorce papers in hand, but dawn arrived without him. Instead, my phone blew up with news alerts: "Harris Group CEO Causes Scene at Hospital!" The articles detailed how he'd mobilized a team of specialists for Taylor's minor scratch, spending millions while cradling her tenderly - an expression I'd never seen him direct at me.
When I finally reached him by phone, he didn't even realize I was on the line, too busy barking orders: "Revise the contract immediately!"
"But sir," his secretary protested, "we'll lose tens of millions!"
"I don't care! Draft another agreement transferring half my shares to Taylor too."
Only after hanging up did Matt notice my call. "Fiona? Sorry about that. I'll be home soon. Did you need something?"
I studied my bandaged hand, the burns still throbbing. "Take your time. I won't disturb you."
"Be a good girl and wait for me," he said absently.
But my waiting days were over. I signed the papers, packed my bags, and headed to the hospital where my mother died - where I discovered the forged organ donation form bearing my perfect signature. A signature I'd never written.
After emailing Matt the evidence, I boarded my flight just as his texts started pouring in:
[Your gift's at the house. Why didn't you let my assistant in?]
[Still angry?]
[Don't be mad, baby. Daddy's coming home soon.]
More lies. Thirty minutes earlier, an influencer's livestream had caught him dress-shopping with Taylor for her shareholder meeting.
I didn't reply. After confirming my documents were processed, I deleted his contact - just as the livestream showed his secretary rushing in, face white, waving the agreement I'd sent.
"Mr. Harris! Emergency! Your wife knows about the surgery cover-up! We can't reach her anywhere!"
Matt's eyes burned with fury as they locked onto me. "What the hell, Fiona?" he spat, voice trembling with rage. "Have you lost your mind? Taylor came here to make peace and clear the air about what happened back then. Who gave you the right to lay hands on her?"
The warmth he'd once reserved for me was gone - his gaze now held nothing but cold contempt.
I forced a bitter smile. "She brought up my mother, Matt. Don't you think I deserve some answers about what really happened?"
A flicker of panic crossed his face before his expression hardened. "What's there to explain? Your mother's surgery failed because she was too far gone. You know that." He squared his shoulders. "Whatever happened back then doesn't excuse this. Apologize to Taylor. Now."
Before I could respond, Taylor clutched his shoulder, her voice quivering. "Please...don't be too hard on Fiona. After Gregg called off their engagement...I know how much she's suffered. Let this be my way of making it up to her." She sniffled dramatically. "If she hates me this much...maybe we should just stay away from each other. I don't want to cause trouble for you."
My fists clenched so tightly I felt blood well where my nails bit into my palms. Watching them walk away, their bodies pressed together, I knew - it was over.
I turned back to the box, feeding its contents to the flames. Five years of love reduced to ashes in minutes.
An hour later, Matt's text arrived: [Taylor's leading the O'Donnell project. You attacking her jeopardized the company. When I made you apologize, it was just damage control - playing along for her benefit. Don't overthink it.]
[I'll come home tonight and make it up to you. Remember that gift I promised? Just stay calm, okay?]
But I knew the truth. That performance wasn't for Taylor - it was for me. Five years of his charade had finally ended.
I waited with divorce papers in hand, but dawn arrived without him. Instead, my phone blew up with news alerts: "Harris Group CEO Causes Scene at Hospital!" The articles detailed how he'd mobilized a team of specialists for Taylor's minor scratch, spending millions while cradling her tenderly - an expression I'd never seen him direct at me.
When I finally reached him by phone, he didn't even realize I was on the line, too busy barking orders: "Revise the contract immediately!"
"But sir," his secretary protested, "we'll lose tens of millions!"
"I don't care! Draft another agreement transferring half my shares to Taylor too."
Only after hanging up did Matt notice my call. "Fiona? Sorry about that. I'll be home soon. Did you need something?"
I studied my bandaged hand, the burns still throbbing. "Take your time. I won't disturb you."
"Be a good girl and wait for me," he said absently.
But my waiting days were over. I signed the papers, packed my bags, and headed to the hospital where my mother died - where I discovered the forged organ donation form bearing my perfect signature. A signature I'd never written.
After emailing Matt the evidence, I boarded my flight just as his texts started pouring in:
[Your gift's at the house. Why didn't you let my assistant in?]
[Still angry?]
[Don't be mad, baby. Daddy's coming home soon.]
More lies. Thirty minutes earlier, an influencer's livestream had caught him dress-shopping with Taylor for her shareholder meeting.
I didn't reply. After confirming my documents were processed, I deleted his contact - just as the livestream showed his secretary rushing in, face white, waving the agreement I'd sent.
"Mr. Harris! Emergency! Your wife knows about the surgery cover-up! We can't reach her anywhere!"
End of I Said 'I Do' to My Mother's Killer Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to I Said 'I Do' to My Mother's Killer book page.