Sweet Little Lies

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

“Handle it, Brian,” I say, gripping the phone until my knuckles turn white. “I know you can. You’ve already done it before; this time isn’t any different. I want him buried. Completely.”

“Yes, Mr. Harding. I’ll make it happen,” he replies.

Brian, one of my very highly paid lawyers, is getting me out of a tight situation with one of my business partners, Sergei. I think back on how the whole mess started. Sergei, that idiot, got caught reselling the counterfeit handbags I had imported. It was supposed to be a simple operation—I bring in the knockoffs, he moves them through his network of boutiques and online stores, and we all profit. But Sergei got sloppy, selling to an undercover agent who’d been tipped off about the counterfeit goods.

Now he’s singing like a canary, trying to save his own skin by dragging my name into it. He’s already tried to turn me in to the police, spinning some tale about how I’m the mastermind behind the whole operation. Little does Sergei know, I’m always ten steps ahead.

I cover my tracks meticulously. The paper trail is a maze of shell companies and offshore accounts. Even if the authorities could follow it, they’d hit nothing but dead ends. The only way to take me down is if someone had real proof, like actual video footage of our warehouse receiving goods. Which is why Charlotte was such a threat.

Anyway, I’ve got some of the best lawyers in the state working on this. Brian will come through, if he wants to be considered one of the best.

I lower my voice slightly as I continue. “Regarding the situation with Zach, are we making any progress?”

“The recording has been delivered, just in time for the last day of the trial,” Brian replies.

My jaw clenches . About damn time. The memory of Zach threatening Reese flashes through my mind, igniting a fresh wave of anger. I take a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Good. And there’s no way to trace it back to us?”

“Nope. My guy has it locked up tight.”

It better be. So far, Zach’s team of slick, high-priced lawyers has been dancing circles around the prosecution. They’ve exploited every legal loophole—motions to suppress, claims of improper police procedure, character witnesses singing Zach’s praises. They’re pulling out all the stops.

They even managed to get DNA evidence found in his car thrown out on a technicality, leaving the prosecution scrambling. The thought of Zach walking free on some legal sleight of hand, potentially coming after Reese again, makes my blood boil.

“He better,” I growl. “Because if anyone finds out, I won’t be taking the fall alone. Understand?”

“Completely, Mr. Harding. I assure you?—”

I cut him off. “I don’t want assurances. I want results. This needs to be airtight. Zach goes away for good, end of story.”

“Of course, sir. We’re doing everything?—”

I hang up without waiting for my lawyer to finish. Let him sweat a little. If he can’t handle this, I’ll find someone who can.

A knock at the door sends me straight up in my seat. Reese pokes her head in.

“Hey, honey. I’m heading to bed. Will you be up soon?”

I smile, covering up my surprise. If she heard me talking to Brian…

“I’ll be right there. Just have to finish up a couple of emails.”

“Okay, no worries,” she says as she steps back into the hallway.

I stare after her for a moment. She couldn’t have heard me. The door to my office is thick enough to muffle any sound, not to mention the extra lining I had installed around the door for privacy.

I lean back in my leather armchair and trace the intricate stitching on the armrests. It was a gift from Charlotte during one of her redecorating frenzies. I have to admit, she had a knack for it. Exquisite taste that matched her blue-blood upbringing. It was one of the things that initially drew me to her like a moth to a flame.

Unfortunately, looks can be deceiving.

When we first met, Charlotte seemed perfect. She was vivacious, charming, the life of every party. Everyone loved her—or so it seemed. My cousin Monica tried to warn me about Charlotte’s instability, but I brushed it off. I was in my early thirties, riding high on business success, and eager to start a family. Charlotte, fresh from her breakup with Zach, seemed like the perfect fit.

Little did I know what lay beneath that polished exterior.

Behind closed doors, Charlotte was a different person entirely. Desperate for attention, cripplingly insecure—it would take her hours to get ready for a simple dinner out. The medication she was on when we started dating had masked these issues, but as time went on, her true nature emerged.

By the time I realized the extent of her mental problems, it was too late. We were mere months away from the wedding, and her mother, Amanda Spencer—a true leech if I’ve ever met one—was sinking her claws deeper into our lives and my wallet.

I should’ve known better. Should’ve seen that it was too good to be true. But the invitations had gone out, the deposits had been made. Everyone I knew, that my parents knew, was coming to the wedding. I was willing to go through with it all just to save face.

Then I met Reese.

It hit me like a freight train—this is what love feels like. Reese was everything Charlotte wasn’t—equally beautiful, but with an underlying grit that commanded respect. She had substance, depth, a fire in her eyes that made my heart race in a way it never had before. I wanted to break up with Charlotte, but we were so close to the wedding that it felt impossible.

And then the night before our wedding, she confronted me about my business—had the audacity to threaten me with evidence. Did she really think that I was going to let her control me the way her mother controlled her? I knew I had to get rid of her, and with her history of depression and cutting, staging a suicide seemed like a perfect fit. In fact, with those razors sitting on her bathroom counter, it was almost too easy.

I had no idea the lengths that Charlotte’s mother would go to cover it all up. And Zach? I thought I had gotten him off Charlotte’s scent a long time ago. But he was clearly still in love with her, so much so that he was willing to hide her suicide.

I lean back, a wry smile playing on my lips as I recall the events that unfolded. When he disposed of her body in the ocean, Zach made a huge mistake. He chose a spot barely a mile down the road from my warehouse. A place where I had cameras. One of my security guys was watching the screen when it happened and promptly reported back to me. I decided to keep this recording close to my chest. There was no benefit in drawing attention to myself regarding her death, not when I had plausible deniability served on a silver platter. This turn of events made my situation infinitely cleaner. A suicide investigation might have led to some uncomfortable questions, potentially landing me in hot water. But everyone believing that Charlotte had cold feet and left me standing at the altar? Now that was a different story entirely.

Sure, the embarrassment stung for a while. The pitying looks, the whispered conversations that would abruptly halt when I entered a room. But it was a small price to pay for my freedom. After all, what’s a bruised ego compared to a life sentence?

In the end, Charlotte’s disappearance became nothing more than fodder for society gossip. And me? I emerged as the jilted groom, garnering sympathy instead of suspicion. Sometimes, the best move is to play the victim, even when you’re the one holding all the cards.

Of course, everything changed when Zach came after my fiancée. He crossed a line he can never uncross. Now, it’s not just about justice—it’s personal. I had to rethink my entire strategy. It was a risk, sharing the recording of him dumping Charlotte’s body in the ocean. But it would be enough to send him to prison for good.

A buzzing from my phone breaks into my thoughts. It’s my warehouse manager, calling again . I know what that means. I slam my fist on the desk and curse out loud.

A few seconds later, Reese pokes her head into the room.

“Babe?” she asks, her eyes concerned. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s nothing, love. Just work, nothing major. I’ll come to bed in a minute.” She nods and I listen as her footsteps climb the stairs to the bedroom.

I pick up my phone with a sigh. God, I hope Reese never finds out about my business. Even if she did, I don’t think she would blackmail me like Charlotte. Reese is different. Smarter. More curious. Would she understand? Maybe. If not? I'd have to make her see reason. Explain things. After all, she's not Charlotte. She's... important. I can't lose her. But I can't let her expose everything either. I'd find a way to deal with it. Carefully. Delicately.

After all, two suicides might seem suspicious.