“What did you find out about him?” I asked nervously.
My brother paused for a few seconds before giving me his answer.
“My legal team finally located Dad’s commercial property records,” Lucas said firmly.
That was the exact moment when I realized that the slap in the chapel was only the beginning of their downfall.
PART 2
I walked back toward the main reception hall after carefully applying a fresh layer of concealer over my bruised cheek and fixing a smile on my face. The religious ceremony in the chapel had been officially suspended. Christopher had already informed the gathered guests that I had suffered a mild panic attack, reassuring everyone that we were moving straight into the party while I calmed down.
That lie alone should have given me every reason to get into my car and drive away forever.
However, the firm words of my brother kept ringing continuously in my ears.
“My legal team finally located Dad’s commercial property records,” Lucas had said.
My family had owned an expansive parcel of commercial land measuring over fifty acres near a rapidly developing industrial port for almost three decades. The land had originally belonged to my grandfather before being passed down directly to my parents.
We had never made our living off that valuable property.
My father owned a small diesel mechanic shop, while my mother ran a quiet neighborhood bakery.
To my parents, that vast property was merely a peaceful piece of family history where we used to spend our summer weekends as children.
However, several major international corporations had recently begun purchasing land around that area due to a massive government shipping project.
Our family had never put the property up for sale.
Christopher knew about the existence of the land because he had stumbled upon old property surveys while visiting my parents’ house months ago.
I had never disclosed the potential market value of the property to him.
In truth, I did not even know the exact valuation myself.
As soon as I stepped inside the brightly lit reception hall, Christopher marched directly toward me with a smug look on his face.
“That looks much better,” Christopher remarked, inspecting my makeup closely. “There was really no need for you to throw a dramatic scene earlier.”
I dug my fingernails deep into the palm of my hand to keep myself from slapping him.
“I just want to get through the rest of this evening without any further arguments,” I replied quietly.
Christopher smiled widely, feeling entirely victorious.
“Now that is the sensible attitude I expect from you,” Christopher said, placing his right arm around my waist.
A short distance away, Florence raised her crystal glass toward me in a mock toast, looking immensely pleased with herself.
For the next half hour, I played my part carefully.
I feigned happiness as guests offered their congratulations.
I posed for formal photographs beside Christopher without letting my smile falter.
I pretended not to notice my parents standing quietly near a marble pillar, looking deeply wounded by everything that had transpired.
My father attempted to walk over to check on me, but I gave him a subtle shake of my head to signal that he should wait.
I trusted my brother implicitly.
Lucas never asked anyone to hold their ground without a solid reason.
A few minutes later, Christopher’s younger brother, Harrison, walked up to our table holding a thick Manila document folder.
“We should take advantage of this break and get these papers signed right now,” Harrison urged, handing the folder to his brother.
Christopher took the folder and slid it across the table directly in front of me.
“These are standard property management forms,” Christopher stated casually. “Just a quick formality between us.”
A cold shiver ran down my spine as I looked at the papers.
“What kind of documents are these?” I inquired softly.
Florence strolled over to our table, swirling her champagne around in her glass.
“Nothing complicated at all, my dear,” Florence cooed smoothly. “You are joining our family now, and there should be absolute financial transparency between relatives.”
I opened the folder and read through the first page.
It was far from a simple administrative formality.
The paperwork contained a binding power of attorney granting Christopher full authority to negotiate property deals on my behalf, alongside a legal contract transferring future inheritance rights into a joint corporate entity.
Attached to the back of the agreement was a detailed map of my parents’ coastal property.
I looked up from the page and stared straight at Christopher.
“Why are my parents’ land documents included in these marriage papers?” I questioned firmly.
Christopher stopped smiling instantly.
“Because that land will eventually belong to you anyway,” Christopher answered coldly.
“Who gave you permission to look into my family’s private assets?” I pushed further.
“Giselle, let us not make this evening unnecessarily difficult,” Christopher warned in a low tone.
Florence let out a soft, mocking laugh from behind her glass.
“Your parents own a valuable piece of land that they are completely incapable of managing properly,” Florence interjected arrogantly. “Our family actually knows how to handle high-stakes real estate deals.”
In that moment, everything became terrifyingly clear to me.
They had never simply tried to look down on me.
They had conducted a thorough background check on my entire family before the wedding.
“How much do you think that property is actually worth?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.
Harrison glanced over at Christopher nervously.
Florence answered immediately with an airy wave of her hand.
“It is not worth nearly as much as your father probably thinks,” Florence claimed smoothly.
She was lying through her teeth, and I could see it clearly in her eyes.
My purse vibrated softly against my side as a new text message arrived.
I retrieved my phone and glanced down at the screen to read the text from Lucas.
“Do not sign a single paper,” Lucas wrote. “My corporate team confirmed the valuation. Dad’s commercial property was just officially appraised at over twelve million dollars due to the new deepwater port development.”
My breath hitched in my throat as I read the figure.
Twelve million dollars.
Christopher had spent two years pretending to be a wealthy benefactor while secretly scheming to acquire a property that could rescue his family from ruin.
Because that was the second crucial secret my brother had uncovered during his investigation.
The construction company owned by Christopher’s father was on the absolute brink of total financial collapse.
Their multi-million-dollar estate, their imported sports cars, and their grand charity donations were nothing more than a desperate illusion funded by mountain-high debt.
Eight months prior, the private investment firm that had stepped in to bail them out with high-interest loans was Apex Global Capital.