At that same moment I realized that this was no longer only a marriage trap arranged by the family.
Someone wanted the Wells family to sink.
Arthur was still standing in front of me.
“Who called you?” he asked.
“You should ask your family.”
“Elene, please.”
“For six whole months I asked you for the truth. And in response you brought me a contract.”
Charles took out his phone and called someone.
“Contact the lawyer. Immediately. The deal must be restored.”
Marcus answered calmly:
“It has already been canceled.”
Charles looked at him.
“You have no idea who you are talking to.”
“On the contrary,” Marcus said. “For the first time we have a complete idea.”
Evelyn leaned toward me.
“Elene, this is a family matter. You can fix everything.”
“I will not fix anything anymore.”
Her face changed, as if she had seen for the first time that my calm was not weakness.
Arthur turned to Nina.
“These recordings are illegal.”
“The court will decide that,” Nina answered. “Until then, you will not approach my client again.”
Arthur laughed bitterly.
“Your client? She is my fiancée.”
“She is not anymore,” I said.
Silence fell in the room again.
That same evening the police called me. The recording sent by the unknown person had been only a small part. The complete material showed that Charles had used his own son’s signature not once but seven times. But the most important thing was something else: Arthur knew that the documents were forged.
Nina put the file on the table.
“He did not sign, but he was a witness.”
I looked at his name on the document for a long time.
Arthur tried to deny it.
“I was only listening. I could not oppose my father.”
“But you could oppose them for me,” I said.
Then I realized who was behind the unknown number. It was Luka, Charles’s former financial adviser, a man who had covered up their fraud for years and had finally himself been declared guilty.
I still went to the old station, but not alone. Nina and a police investigator stood at a distance. On the platform the wind carried newspapers around, while the iron roof trembled with every burst of raindrops.
Luka was waiting for me by a pillar.
“Why did you help me?” I asked.
“Because your company could save them. And because no one had refused them until you appeared.”
“You also participated.”
“Yes. Therefore my testimony depends on them.”
He handed me a small memory device.
“Here are bank transfers, forged signatures, and one video. Watch it before you decide what you will do.”
Arthur was visible in the video. He was sitting in his father’s office, holding a record researched about my supposed assets.
“If she has assets, marriage is necessary,” he was saying. “If she has nothing, she is still useful to us. In both cases we will make her sign.”
When he heard his own voice, Arthur lost his color for the first time.
And I simply closed my eyes.
That night I returned home and looked at the bedroom door. His gray scarf, which he had left one rainy evening, still hung there. I took it and put it in the closet. Then I packed his things into an empty suitcase.
Only one thing remained on the table—the silver wooden box.
The one I had been carrying for their anniversary.
The watch inside was still working. Its small mechanism ticked evenly, as if nothing had happened that evening.
The next morning Arthur’s lawyer called me.
“Madam, perhaps we can find an agreement. Canceling the wedding will cause a public scandal.”
“I did not create the scandal.”
“You can settle the matter quietly.”
“They could have told the truth too.”
The lawyer sighed.
“Arthur regrets it very much.”
“Regret does not bring trust back.”
Within several hours Charles and Evelyn were arrested on charges of financial fraud and document forgery. Arthur cooperated with the investigation, but that did not erase his crime. He knew enough and still chose silence.
In court his words were made audible to everyone.
“If she has assets, marriage is necessary.”
Arthur sat in the courtroom and listened to his own voice. It was as if he understood for the first time that cruel words were no longer a joke spoken at a family table. They had become evidence.
I did not look at him again.
Three months later I changed cities. I opened a new Northbridge office near the sea. In the mornings I drank black coffee with the employees, at noon I checked the routes of the goods, and in the evenings I returned to a small apartment where the harbor lights could be seen through the window.
The first weeks were difficult.
In the fourth week I woke up for the first time without thinking about Arthur.
Nina’s daughter, little Sophie, left a drawing in my office. In the drawing there was a large yellow door and a woman standing in front of it.
“This is you,” she told me. “I colored the door because you should always be able to leave.”
I hung the drawing on the wall.
On the first morning of winter, snow fell onto the windowsill. The city was quiet. The phone rang once.
It was Arthur.
“I want to see you. I understand everything. Now I really love you. Please, give me one more chance.”
I looked at the message for a long time.
Then I wrote: “You had your chance when you thought I was poor. Now you can only remain with the consequences.”
I blocked the number.
I entered the study. The silver wooden box stood on the shelf. I no longer kept the anniversary watch as a gift—it hung on the wall of my new office and chimed calmly every hour.
That evening I opened the box, took the watch in my hand, and went to the window. Snow was falling outside, but this time I was no longer afraid of the cold.
Time was still moving.
And for the first time it was on my side.
Missed the beginning?
