Trucker Wife's Midnight Stalker - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading Trucker Wife's Midnight Stalker, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of Trucker Wife's Midnight Stalker.
Zachary played another video for me.
The footage clearly showed Vincent handing them cash.
Then the scene shifted—to those degrading clips supposedly showing me. My stomach twisted. The worst part? Zachary and his crew had never actually touched me. Yet the videos made it look like they had.
"We edited some footage for authenticity," Zachary admitted. "Even planted fake videos in your husband's truck."
He continued, "Just wait. I don't have all the pieces yet, but my guess? He's trying to force you into a divorce where you walk away with nothing."
Then came the curveball. "We can use this evidence to destroy him. And... I've got feelings for you."
I blinked hard. "You what?"
Zachary released his hold on my waist and stepped back.
"You volunteered at my sister's hospital years ago. Funny how life works." His voice softened. "I won't hurt you. But I can't delete these—we need them as leverage."
Suddenly, everything fell into place.
That explained Vincent's shit-eating grin this morning.
And why Mr. "I-can-handle-my-liquor" had been "wasted" that night.
It was all his sick game.
But why? Just for a house we're still paying off? To dump me empty-handed?
None of it added up—until my phone rang.
"Bianca," my uncle's voice crackled through, "the village is being acquired. Big compensation coming. Vincent knew weeks ago—said he'd surprise you. But I figured you should hear it straight..."
My blood ran cold.
They were demolishing our hometown.
Now the math worked: Vincent wanted my family's million-dollar payout.
When I got home, divorce papers sat waiting like a trap.
Court date: ten days.
Vincent couldn't even pretend to wait.
I collapsed, but Zachary stayed—solid as bedrock.
For those ten days, Vincent "worked late." Convenient.
I met Zachary's sister, Zoe Evans.
Turns out I did recognize her.
My cop bestie Lydia coached me: "Play dumb. Let him hang himself."
At the hearing, smug Vincent presented his "evidence," demanding everything—the house, my dignity, even the compensation check.
His fatal error?
Those videos were obvious deepfakes. Junk evidence.
Meanwhile, Zachary's footage exposed Vincent's entire conspiracy.
Result? Vincent got zip. Lost his job. Facing jail time.
When he begged, I cracked my palm across his face.
Outside court, the dam broke—I sobbed uncontrollably.
Zachary followed, jaw clenched with worry.
Looking at him, it hit me: sometimes disasters bring unexpected gifts.
Maybe this was fate's messed-up way of introducing me to Zoe Evans.
And yeah, Zachary used to steal fuel... but nobody's perfect.
The footage clearly showed Vincent handing them cash.
Then the scene shifted—to those degrading clips supposedly showing me. My stomach twisted. The worst part? Zachary and his crew had never actually touched me. Yet the videos made it look like they had.
"We edited some footage for authenticity," Zachary admitted. "Even planted fake videos in your husband's truck."
He continued, "Just wait. I don't have all the pieces yet, but my guess? He's trying to force you into a divorce where you walk away with nothing."
Then came the curveball. "We can use this evidence to destroy him. And... I've got feelings for you."
I blinked hard. "You what?"
Zachary released his hold on my waist and stepped back.
"You volunteered at my sister's hospital years ago. Funny how life works." His voice softened. "I won't hurt you. But I can't delete these—we need them as leverage."
Suddenly, everything fell into place.
That explained Vincent's shit-eating grin this morning.
And why Mr. "I-can-handle-my-liquor" had been "wasted" that night.
It was all his sick game.
But why? Just for a house we're still paying off? To dump me empty-handed?
None of it added up—until my phone rang.
"Bianca," my uncle's voice crackled through, "the village is being acquired. Big compensation coming. Vincent knew weeks ago—said he'd surprise you. But I figured you should hear it straight..."
My blood ran cold.
They were demolishing our hometown.
Now the math worked: Vincent wanted my family's million-dollar payout.
When I got home, divorce papers sat waiting like a trap.
Court date: ten days.
Vincent couldn't even pretend to wait.
I collapsed, but Zachary stayed—solid as bedrock.
For those ten days, Vincent "worked late." Convenient.
I met Zachary's sister, Zoe Evans.
Turns out I did recognize her.
My cop bestie Lydia coached me: "Play dumb. Let him hang himself."
At the hearing, smug Vincent presented his "evidence," demanding everything—the house, my dignity, even the compensation check.
His fatal error?
Those videos were obvious deepfakes. Junk evidence.
Meanwhile, Zachary's footage exposed Vincent's entire conspiracy.
Result? Vincent got zip. Lost his job. Facing jail time.
When he begged, I cracked my palm across his face.
Outside court, the dam broke—I sobbed uncontrollably.
Zachary followed, jaw clenched with worry.
Looking at him, it hit me: sometimes disasters bring unexpected gifts.
Maybe this was fate's messed-up way of introducing me to Zoe Evans.
And yeah, Zachary used to steal fuel... but nobody's perfect.
End of Trucker Wife's Midnight Stalker Chapter 7. View all chapters or return to Trucker Wife's Midnight Stalker book page.