He Needed a Wife to Claim His Inheritance—So He Paid a Poor Widow to Pretend
Chapter 6
They started spending more time together.
Breakfast.
Late-night conversations.
Walks around the estate.
Clara learned Ethan’s habits.
He woke at five.
Drank coffee without sugar.
Read business reports while eating.
Never watched television.
Ethan learned Clara’s.
She sang while cooking.
She talked to plants.
She kept every drawing Noah had ever made.
She hated thunderstorms.
One night, a storm hit the city.
Clara couldn’t sleep.
Ethan found her in the hallway.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’re lying.”
She sighed.
“I hate storms.”
He smiled.
“My grandfather hated them too.”
“Really?”
“He said thunder sounded like the sky moving furniture.”
She laughed.
“That sounds ridiculous.”
“He was ridiculous.”
They sat by the window.
For the first time, Ethan told her about his mother.
How she’d died when he was fourteen.
How his father had disappeared into work afterward.
How his grandfather had raised him.
Clara listened.
“You’ve been alone a long time.”
“So have you.”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
They sat quietly.
Then Clara said:
“I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
“That when this year ends, I’ll lose this.”
“What exactly?”
She looked around.
“The safety.”
Ethan understood.
Not the mansion.
Not the money.
The feeling of not having to fight every day.
He reached for her hand.
She hesitated.
Then took it.
Neither moved.
Then Noah appeared at the hallway.
“Mom?”
They immediately separated.
“What?”
“I had a nightmare.”
Clara stood.
“I’ll come.”
Ethan watched them disappear.
He smiled.
For the first time, the house felt like a home.
But the next morning, everything changed.
A police officer arrived.
“Mr. Cole, we need to ask you questions.”
“About?”
“Daniel Bennett.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“What happened?”
“The original accident report was forged.”
“I know.”
The officer looked surprised.
“Who told you?”
“I found evidence.”
The officer handed him a photograph.
A man had been seen near the warehouse the night Daniel died.
Ethan recognized him.
Nathan’s business partner.
And behind him stood someone else.
Ethan’s own father.
He stared at the photograph.
Impossible.
His father had died years earlier.
The officer explained:
“We think the second man may be misidentified.”
Ethan looked closer.
The face was partially hidden.
But the coat.
The watch.
The posture.
They were familiar.
Clara stepped beside him.
“What is it?”
Ethan shook his head.
“Nothing.”
She looked at him.
“That’s not true.”
He handed her the photograph.
Her face turned pale.
“That man looks like your father.”
“I know.”
Then she noticed something else.
A ring.
A family crest.
The same ring Ethan’s grandfather had worn.
Clara looked at him.
“Someone from your family was there.”
“Yes.”
And suddenly, Ethan wasn’t investigating a corporate theft.
He was investigating his own family.
