On the morning of my son’s wedding, our family chauffeur pushed me into the trunk and threw a blanket over me. “What on earth are you doing?!” I screamed. “Ma’am, please, hide here. Don’t say a word. You need to see this… please, trust me,” he said. Minutes later, what I saw through the crack left me completely paralyzed.
Chapter 1: The Betrayal of the Loyal
The brilliant June sun shone down on the seaside mansion in East Hampton. Today was the day my only son, William, was marrying the woman of his dreams, Isabella.
I, Eleanor Vance, 60, head of the Vance Group, stood before the mirror adjusting my wide-brimmed hat. I felt uneasy. A vague unease I had tried to push away for the past six months. Isabella was too perfect. She appeared out of nowhere, beautiful, modest, and had captivated William to the point of losing his reason.
“Madam, the car is ready to take you to the church.”
Arthur’s deep, warm voice rang out. Arthur had been my family’s driver for 30 years. He wasn’t just an employee; he was the person I trusted most, the one who taught William to ride a bicycle after my husband’s untimely death.
“Thank you, Arthur,” I said, stepping out to the car. A sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom pulled up right outside.
Arthur opened the back door for me. But just as I was about to step inside, he suddenly grabbed my arm. His eyes, usually gentle, were now panicked and fierce.
“Arthur? What are you doing?” I gasped.
He didn’t answer. He shoved me forcefully toward the back of the car. The trunk was already open.
“Arthur!” I screamed, trying to resist. But Arthur, though old, was still strong. He pushed me into the large, velvet-lined trunk.
“What the hell are you doing?!” I yelled, utterly terrified. “I’ll fire you! I’ll call the police!”
Arthur threw a dark woolen blanket over me, covering me completely but leaving a small gap toward the edge of the trunk, which he had propped open with a rubber seal to prevent it from closing completely.
“Madam, please, hide here,” Arthur whispered, his voice trembling but urgent. “Don’t say a word. You need to see this… please, believe me. I’d rather die than harm you. But you have to see it with your own eyes.”
He slammed the trunk lid shut.
Darkness enveloped us. The scent of leather and gasoline lingered. My heart pounded as if it would burst. Was Arthur insane? Or had he been bribed to kidnap me? I fumbled for my phone in my handbag, but realized I’d left it on the dressing table in my haste.
The car started moving.
Chapter 2: The Encounter in the Forest
The car didn’t go far. Only about five minutes. I could hear the gravel crunching under the wheels. We weren’t on the main road. We were going into the pine forest behind the mansion – where there was an old, abandoned shed where William used to play hide-and-seek as a child.
The car stopped. The engine shut off.
I lay motionless under the blanket, drenched in sweat. Through the tiny gap between the trunk lid and the car body, I saw a patch of forest dappled with sunlight.
Footsteps crunched on dry leaves.
“You’re late,” a woman’s voice said.
My blood froze. It was Isabella’s voice. The bride. The one who should have been in the dressing room half a mile away.
“I had to shake off those troublesome bridesmaids,” a man’s voice replied. That voice… I recognized it too. It was James, my family’s private lawyer, the one who drafted the prenuptial agreement.
Isabella came into view through the gap. She was still wearing her gorgeous Vera Wang wedding dress, but her usual saintly, innocent expression was gone. She was smoking. A long cigarette, exhaling smoke with practiced ease.
James stood opposite her, holding a stack of files.
“Is everything ready?” Isabella asked, her voice cold and sharp as a razor.
“It’s done,” James sneered. “William signed the prenuptial agreement amendment this morning. He thought it was just supplemental honeymoon insurance.”
“That idiot,” Isabella laughed, a contemptuous laugh. “He’s blindly in love with me. He didn’t even bother to read it.”
I covered my mouth to prevent a sob from escaping.
“What does the amendment say?” Isabella asked.
“If William dies in an accident within six months of the marriage, all control of the Vance Group and the $100 million insurance payout will go to his legal wife. Not through a trust, not through Eleanor. Cash. Immediately.”
“Good,” Isabella took a drag on her cigarette and tossed it to the ground, crushing it with the heel of her pristine white wedding shoe. “The Maldives plan remains the same, right?”
“Intact,” James nodded. “A diving accident. The oxygen tank will malfunction. No one will suspect anything. He has a history of mild asthma.”
I felt like I was falling into an abyss.
They weren’t just scamming money. They were planning to kill my son. William, my precious son.
“And what about old Eleanor?” Isabella asked.
“She’s old. After her son dies, she’ll break down. I’ll arrange the paperwork to get her into a mental institution. She won’t be a threat anymore.”
“I hate her,” Isabella spat. “For the past six months I’ve had to play the role of a dutiful daughter-in-law, listening to her lecture about family traditions. I’m sick of it.”
“Come on, darling,” James stepped forward, wrapping his arm around Isabella’s waist. And to my utter horror, the 50-year-old lawyer leaned down and kissed my future daughter-in-law passionately. “Just say ‘I do’ and…”
We’ll wait until noon today, and then another two weeks. After that, we’ll have everything. “The Vance Empire will be ours.”
“I love you, Dad,” Isabella whispered in James’s ear.
I was speechless.
Dad?
James wasn’t her lover. James was her father?
James had introduced Isabella to William at a charity event. He said she was an orphan who had risen through the ranks. It turned out it was all a charade. A bloody, incestuous charade orchestrated by the very lawyer my family had trusted for 20 years.
Chapter 3: The Return from the Trunk
The meeting ended. Isabella adjusted her dress, smoothed her hair, and returned to being the perfect bride. James drove away in his car. Isabella walked a shortcut back to the mansion.
Arthur waited until they were out of sight before opening the trunk.
He helped me up. My legs were trembling so much I could barely stand.
“You saw it?” Arthur asked, his voice choked with emotion. “I overheard James talking.” “I spoke on the phone in the car yesterday. But I don’t have proof. If I tell you, you won’t believe me. William certainly won’t. He’ll fire me immediately.”
I gripped Arthur’s hand tightly. “Thank you, Arthur. You saved my son’s life.”
“What do we do now, ma’am? Call the police? The wedding starts in 30 minutes.”
I took a deep breath, trying to regain the composure of a woman who had run a corporation for decades. Calling the police now would cause chaos, and James was a shrewd lawyer; he would try to deny guilt or destroy evidence. The contract was signed, but not yet notarized.
I needed to expose them. Right where they thought they were about to win.
“Take me home, Arthur,” I said, my eyes hardening. “But don’t take me out the front door. Take me in the back door.” “I need to see William.”
Chapter 4: The Wedding of Truth
William was standing in the waiting room, adjusting his tie. He looked happy and nervous.
“Mom?” William was surprised to see me enter through the side door, my hair slightly disheveled. “Where did you go? Arthur said you wanted to take a walk to calm down?”
“William,” I grabbed his shoulder. “I need you to listen to me. And you have to believe me completely.”
“What’s wrong, Mom? You’re scaring me.”
“Isabella isn’t who you think she is.”
“Mom, again? Today is my wedding day…” William frowned.
“Did you sign any papers this morning with James?”
William froze. “Yes… supplemental travel insurance. James said it was necessary for the Maldives trip.”
“That’s not insurance. That’s your death sentence,” I said quickly. “Arthur and I just saw them together in the woods.” James and Isabella. They’re lovers… no, they call each other father and daughter. They plan to kill me in the Maldives to seize my inheritance.”
“Mother, you’re crazy!” William recoiled. “Isabella loves me! And James is Uncle James! He watched me grow up!”
“Arthur!” I called.
Arthur came in. He held out his phone.
“Master, I’m sorry. While the mistress was in the trunk, I secretly placed my phone in the wheel well near where they were standing to record them.” The sound was a little low, but audible.
Arthur played the recording.
Isabella’s voice: “I hate her… For the past six months I’ve had to play the role of a dutiful daughter-in-law…”
James’s voice: “A diving accident… The oxygen tank will malfunction…”
And the sound of kissing.
William’s face turned from red to pale, then ashen. He slumped into his chair, clutching his chest. His world had just collapsed.
“Why…” William groaned.
“Because of the money, son,” I cradled his head. “Now, do you want revenge? Or do you want to cancel the wedding and let the police handle it?”
William looked up. In his eyes, the innocence was dead. Instead, there was a fire of rage.
“I want them to pay.” “Right now.”
Chapter 5: The Last Vows
The Wedding March music began. 300 guests rose.
Isabella walked into the chapel. She was stunning, smiling shyly, holding a bouquet of lily-of-the-valley flowers. James stood in the front row, watching her with the feigned pride of a “family friend.”
William stood on the platform, watching the bride approach him. He didn’t smile.
When Isabella arrived, the priest began the ceremony.
“William Vance, do you take Isabella as your wife, to love and cherish her…”
“Wait,” William interrupted.
The entire hall fell silent. Isabella looked at William, her eyes widening in feigned surprise. “My love?”
William took the microphone.
“Before I say yes,” William said, his voice echoing throughout the garden. “I would like to invite lawyer James up here for a moment.” “I have a gift I’d like to give him and my bride.”
James was surprised, but adjusted his suit and stepped onto the stage, flashing a professional smile. “William, this isn’t the time…”
“It’s the perfect time,” William said. “Arthur, bring the gift.”
Arthur stepped onto the stage. But he didn’t bring a gift. He brought a laptop and connected it to the giant LED screen behind him – which was supposed to be displaying commemorative photos.
“My gift is an audio recording,” William said coldly.
Arthur pressed the Play button.
James and Isabella’s voices rang out, loud and clear, shattering the solemn atmosphere.
“A silent accident…”
“At sea… The oxygen tank will malfunction…”
“I love you, Dad…”
The entire auditorium erupted in horror. Shouts and whispers broke out.
Isabella’s face was drained of color. She tried to rush off the stage and run, but I stood in her way.
“Where are you going, daughter-in-law?” I asked.
James stood frozen. He looked at William, then at Arthur. He understood he had been tricked.
“This is a lie!” “Deepfake!” James yelled.
“Police!” William shouted.
From behind the rows of seats, four plainclothes police officers stood up. I had called them right after leaving the waiting room.
“James Henderson and Isabella… or rather, Sarah Henderson,” the chief officer said as he handcuffed James. “You are arrested for conspiracy to commit murder and fraud.”
Isabella struggled, her Vera Wang wedding dress tearing as she tried to climb over the fence. But she couldn’t escape.
William stood watching the woman he had once wanted to spend his life loving, screaming obscenities.
“Why?” William asked one last time.
Isabella stopped, looking up at William with eyes full of hatred. “Because you’re rich, you idiot.” “And I’m fed up with poverty.”
The police dragged her away.
Chapter Ending
The wedding reception turned into a crime scene. Guests left in shock.
William, Arthur, and I sat on the steps of the mansion, watching the sunset.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” William said, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t listen to you. I almost lost my life.”
“It’s alright, son,” I patted his shoulder. “Every lesson has a price. Luckily, this time the price was just a broken heart, not a funeral.”
I turned to Arthur.
“Arthur, you’re not just a driver anymore.”
“What am I, Madam?”
“You’re a benefactor of the Vance family. And from tomorrow, you’ll retire. With a pension equal to that of a director.” “And I would like to invite you to be an honorary member of the Board.”
Arthur smiled, his familiar gentle smile. “I’m just doing my job, ma’am. Protecting the family.”
William poured three glasses of champagne.
“To celebrate what?” William asked, a sad smile on his face.
“To celebrate that we are still alive,” I said. “And to celebrate that the trunk of the Rolls-Royce is big enough to hold the truth.”
We clinked glasses. The sea breeze blew, carrying away the lies and deceit, leaving only the raw but unwavering truth of motherhood and loyalty.
