THE MORNING AFTER OUR WEDDING I RECEIVED A SHOCKING PHONE CALL FROM THE MARRIAGE REGISTRATION OFFICE REVEALING MY NEW HUSBAND WAS HIDING A DEADLY SECRET SO I SENT HIM TO PRISON INSTEAD OF THE BEACH
THE PERFECT WEDDING AND THE PACKING
The morning sun was shining brightly through the windows of my bedroom. Just twelve hours ago, I had walked down the aisle in a custom white gown, surrounded by friends and family, to marry Adrian. He was charming, handsome, and seemed like the perfect gentleman. He had swept me off my feet over the past year, always knowing exactly what to say and how to make me feel completely loved. I thought I was the luckiest woman in the world.
We were currently in my large house, a property I had fully paid off before I even met him. Adrian was in the shower, humming a happy tune. I was sitting on the floor of the bedroom, happily folding my summer dresses and packing them into my suitcase. We were scheduled to leave for our honeymoon at a luxury beach resort in the Bahamas in just a few hours. I had paid for the entire trip as a wedding gift to us.
As I was zipping up my bag, my cell phone rang on the nightstand. I glanced at the screen. The caller ID showed it was the local city marriage registration office. I frowned in confusion. We had signed and submitted our marriage license two days before the ceremony. I assumed they were just calling to confirm our mailing address to send the final certificate.
I answered the phone with a bright smile. However, the voice on the other end of the line instantly made the temperature in the room drop.
THE CHILLING PHONE CALL
“Hello, is this Miss Chloe Evans?” a woman asked. She sounded incredibly serious and slightly nervous. She did not refer to me by my new married name.
“Yes, speaking,” I replied, lowering my voice so I would not disturb Adrian over the sound of the shower. “Is there an issue with our marriage certificate?”
“Miss Evans, my name is Sarah. I am a senior clerk at the registry office,” she said. “I am calling because our system flagged your application this morning during the final background check. We cannot legally process your marriage to Adrian Vance.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart beginning to race. “Why not?”
“Because Mr. Vance is already legally married,” the clerk revealed. “He has been married to a woman named Beatrice Sterling for the past seven years. They reside in the next state over, and there is absolutely no record of a divorce filing. Furthermore, the social security number he provided on your paperwork belongs to a deceased individual. The police have already been notified of the fraud, but we wanted to call and ensure you were safe.”
I stopped breathing. The room began to spin. The man I had just pledged my life to, the man currently singing in my shower, was a complete stranger, a fraud, and a bigamist.
I thanked the clerk, my voice trembling, and hung up the phone. My mind raced. Why would a married man go through the trouble of staging an entire fake wedding with me? I was not a billionaire, but I did have a significant amount of savings and a fully paid-off house.
I looked at his open suitcase on the bed. My hands were shaking, but my survival instinct kicked in. I began to dig through his perfectly folded clothes, searching for answers.
THE DEADLY DISCOVERY
At the very bottom of his suitcase, hidden beneath the lining, I found a black leather folder. I opened it and pulled out a stack of documents. What I saw made my blood run completely cold.
There was a massive life insurance policy taken out in my name, signed with a forged signature that looked exactly like mine. The payout was for two million dollars, and the sole beneficiary was Adrian. Attached to the policy was a drafted will, also forged, leaving my house and all my bank accounts to him in the event of my untimely death.
Then, I saw the travel itinerary for our honeymoon. He had booked a private, secluded boat tour for just the two of us on our second day at the beach. A boat tour far away from the coast, in deep waters where accidents could easily happen without any witnesses.
He did not marry me because he loved me. He married me to kill me on our honeymoon and steal everything I had worked my entire life to build. I assumed Beatrice, his real wife, was likely in on the scam, waiting for him to return home a very wealthy widower.
The shower turned off. I heard the bathroom door unlock.
I did not panic. I did not scream. I quickly shoved the black folder into my own purse, zipped his suitcase back up exactly as I found it, and sat on the edge of the bed with a calm, sweet smile on my face.
THE PERFECT TRAP
Adrian walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, smiling at me.
“Are you ready for the beach, my beautiful wife?” he asked, kissing my forehead.
“I am so excited I can barely contain myself,” I lied, looking directly into the eyes of a monster. “I am going to run downstairs and make us some coffee before the taxi gets here. Finish getting dressed.”
Once I was downstairs, I grabbed my phone and immediately called the local police department. I explained the situation, told them about the forged documents, the life insurance policy, and the call from the registry office. They told me to stay calm and that units were already on their way.
Then, I found Beatrice Sterling on social media. I sent her a quick message with a wedding photo of Adrian and me, along with my home address, telling her that her husband was about to become a millionaire and she might want to come collect her share right now. I knew greed would make her rush over if she lived close enough.
I poured two cups of coffee and casually walked back upstairs. For the next thirty minutes, I played the role of the blushing bride. We carried our luggage down to the front door. He kept talking about the ocean and how much fun we were going to have on the private boat tour. Every word out of his mouth disgusted me, but I maintained my bright smile.
THE SWEETEST DEPARTURE
Just as Adrian reached for the front doorknob to leave, the sound of loud sirens filled the street. Red and blue lights flashed through the living room windows.
Adrian froze. He looked out the window and saw three police cruisers blocking the driveway.
“What is going on?” he muttered, panic suddenly washing over his face. He turned to me. “Chloe, did you call the police? Why are they here?”
I calmly reached into my purse, pulled out the black leather folder, and tossed it onto his chest.
“They are here for you, Adrian. Or should I say, the husband of Beatrice Sterling,” I said, my voice completely stripped of its usual warmth.
The color drained from his face as the police officers banged on the front door. Before he could even attempt to run out the back, the door swung open, and officers stormed into the house with their weapons drawn. They immediately shoved Adrian against the wall and placed him in handcuffs.
As they were reading him his rights, a furious woman marched up the driveway. It was Beatrice. She started screaming at Adrian for getting caught and ruining their perfect plan, completely exposing herself as his accomplice. The police happily arrested her for conspiracy and fraud right there on my front lawn.
Adrian begged me to listen to him, crying and claiming he really did love me and that the insurance policy was just a precaution. I simply laughed and closed the door in his face as the officers dragged him away to the police cars.
I watched them drive off to prison from my living room window. I looked down at my packed suitcase, picked up my phone, and called the taxi company to confirm my ride to the airport. I was not going to let a failed assassination attempt ruin a perfectly good vacation. I went to the Bahamas alone, enjoyed the private boat tour safely with a trained guide, and celebrated the rest of my beautiful, wealthy, and completely single life.
