Chapter 8 - The Wife Who Was Once Bought Refused to Let Him Protect Her Alone
The final trial was not against a criminal.
It was against the past.
News outlets began attacking Thea.
She was nineteen.
She was young.
She had married a powerful CEO.
People called her a gold digger.
A manipulator.
A teenage bride.
Thea ignored them.
Until one headline accused her of marrying Lachlan to inherit his fortune.
She cried that night.
Lachlan found her on the balcony.
“Don't read it.”
“I did.”
“You know it's false.”
“It still hurts.”
He stood beside her.
“Then let's build a life they can't define.”
“How?”
“Do what you love.”
Thea looked at him.
“Nursing.”
“Then become the best nurse you can be.”
She did.
Years passed.
She became one of the youngest nurses at the hospital.
Then a trauma specialist.
Her mother recovered enough to volunteer.
Lachlan built the foundation.
The Voss Medical Center opened five years later.
Named after Marianne.
The same woman whose illness had started their marriage.
People came.
Politicians.
Doctors.
Families.
And the press.
A reporter asked Thea:
“Do you regret marrying Lachlan at nineteen?”
She looked at her husband.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I regret the circumstances.”
She smiled.
“But not the person.”
Lachlan watched from across the room.
Pride filled his eyes.
Later that night, they danced in the empty hospital courtyard.
“You were good.”
“At what?”
“The interview.”
“Did I embarrass you?”
“Never.”
He kissed her.
Then his phone rang.
Gideon.
“What happened?”
“We found another file.”
Lachlan's expression changed.
“What kind?”
“Your father's final letter.”
He froze.
“Where?”
“It was hidden inside the foundation documents.”
They opened it together.
The letter was addressed to Lachlan.
My son,
If you are reading this, then I failed to protect you in life.
Lachlan swallowed.
The man who killed me was not the only reason I was afraid.
Thea leaned closer.
Your mother knew the truth.
Lachlan stopped.
His mother had been dead for twenty years.
The letter continued.
She knew I was going to expose Julian. She begged me not to. Not because she supported him. Because she feared what the truth would do to you.
There was one final sentence.
Do not become me. Choose love before power.
Lachlan closed his eyes.
The letter had arrived too late.
But not completely.
Because he had chosen.
Thea touched his hand.
“You did.”
He opened his eyes.
“What?”
“You chose love.”
He smiled.
“So did you.”
They kissed.
The past had finally stopped controlling them.
At least, they thought it had.
May you like
That night, someone broke into the foundation archive.
The only thing stolen was the original letter.
