CHAPTER 56
The television played in the background of William's minimalist office, its soft glow bouncing off the glass walls. He leaned over his mahogany desk, flipping through proposals, eyes flicking between numbers, charts, and development blueprints. A mug of half-drunk coffee steamed beside his hand.
A sudden flash on the television drew his attention.
BREAKING NEWS: Wife of Billionaire William Dray Arrested for Fraud
William's fingers froze mid-turn. The papers slipped from his grip, fluttering to the floor.
"What…?" he whispered, his brows furrowed in disbelief. He turned to the screen.
The anchor's voice rang out: "Kate Dray, the wife of Greensville's most sought-after billionaire, was seen being escorted by police from CrestGate Industries earlier today..."
William stood abruptly, knocking his mug off the desk. Coffee spilled across the floor like blood, pooling beneath his polished shoes.
"No. No, no, no," he muttered, pacing.
His thoughts raced. Who did this? Carlos? Gabriella? Donovan? His mind spiraled back to Gabriella's breakdown at the gala—the rage in her eyes when he announced Kate's pregnancy. The chandelier incident. It couldn't be coincidence.
And Carlos—he'd shown up suddenly, demanding Kate sign away her legacy. Is this his revenge for refusing him?
Grabbing his phone, he dialed Liam's number. The line rang twice.
But a female voice answered.
"Hello?" Tina's voice came through, gentle but tired.
William blinked. "Tina? Why do you have Liam's phone? Where is he?"
There was a pause. Then Tina exhaled shakily. "You don't know…?"
"Know what?" William snapped.
"Liam… he was in an accident. A truck hit him. He's in the hospital—he's been unconscious for days."
William's throat dried. "What? When did this happen?!"
"Before the gala," she replied, her voice trembling. "I thought Kate told you…"
William's hand slowly dropped to his side. Kate hadn't mentioned anything. She'd been smiling, calm. Carrying this weight alone?
He shut his eyes. What the hell is going on?
"How is he now?" he asked, swallowing hard.
"He's improving. Still unconscious, but the doctors said there's progress."
William clenched his jaw. His voice dropped. "Tina… Kate's been arrested."
The line went dead silent.
"What?"
"They said fraud. Corporate embezzlement. But this… this isn't just random. Someone is pulling strings."
"I'll meet you at the station," Tina said immediately. "Tell her she's not alone. Not now."
---
Across town, the blinds were drawn in a luxurious lounge, sunlight dimmed behind rich velvet curtains.
Mr. Howard—silver-haired and elegant in a deep navy robe—sat in his armchair, sipping warm black tea. His home, a mansion of wealth and wisdom, was wrapped in peace. Not a sound except the gentle ticking of an antique clock.
Then came the chime.
Ding-dong.
He raised a brow. Visitors weren't common. Placing the tea down, he moved to the door and opened it.
Standing there was Adele—Donovan's personal assistant. Her hair was tied tight, but her posture gave her away: nervous, restrained. Behind her were two towering men in black suits.
"Mr. Howard," she said with a tight-lipped nod.
His expression sharpened. "Adele."
"I… didn't want to come. But I had no choice," she said, eyes lowered.
His silence spoke volumes.
He opened the door wider and gestured in.
Inside, the tension was thick. Adele sat cautiously on a velvet couch while Mr. Howard poured two cups of coffee.
"Why are you here, Adele?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.
She looked up at him. "It's not Donovan who sent me."
"No?"
"It's the Senior Executive. The S.E."
His hand paused mid-pour.
He set the pot down.
"I assume this is about the East Wing," he said, voice low.
"I—I don't know exactly. I was just told to bring you in."
He leaned back. "Then I'm not going."
The two guards shifted slightly, but Mr. Howard didn't flinch.
Adele's voice dropped. "Do you know something… about the East Wing?"
Silence.
Then he answered, his voice a whisper. "Yes."
She blinked. "Then… why won't you go?"
"Because it's not time. Some truths, Adele… they burn before they heal. And some people aren't ready to bleed for the answers they think they want."
She looked down, clearly shaken.
"The S.E. doesn't care about readiness," she whispered.
"Then he's forgotten what happened the last time," Mr. Howard replied coldly.
The suited men exchanged looks.
Mr. Howard stared into his cup, as if searching for meaning in its black depths. Then he whispered:
"It's all beginning again…"
---
William's car tore through the roads toward the station.
His phone rang. He answered with a curt, "Yes?"
His mother's voice poured in.
"William. Have you seen the news?"
He clenched the steering wheel. "I'm on my way to get her out."
Helena sighed dramatically. "That's exactly what I feared. You must leave that girl. Her arrest is a scandal. You know how this affects the Dray name?"
William remained silent, the engine growling as he shifted gears.
Then another voice chimed in—his father.
"This will affect the family business. It's already trending worldwide."
His sister's voice followed. "William, this isn't just about you and her. This is about all of us. You have to end this marriage."
Then came the ultimatum.
"If you stay with Kate," his father said coldly, "you'll be disowned. No more funding. No more board seat. You'll be on your own."
The car slowed as William neared a red light. He stared out the windshield, lost in the weight of his choices.
"Are you finished?" he asked quietly.
"William—"
"I choose Kate," he said firmly.
Silence.
"William—be serious," his sister snapped.
"I am serious. I don't abandon people I love. You want me to sacrifice her for your image? Then disown me."
"You don't know what you're doing," Helena hissed.
"I know exactly what I'm doing. For once in my life."
He hung up.
As the light turned green, William's foot hit the gas. The city blurred past. His heart beat faster—not out of fear, but resolve.
He was all in now. No turning back.
---
Meanwhile, in a darkened room lined with screens and newspaper clippings, a man sat cross-legged, watching the news replay on loop.
Kate's face filled the screen. Handcuffs. Flashing cameras. Chaos.
The man chuckled softly, running a finger down the side of his wine glass.
"Good," he whispered.
In the background, another monitor showed Liam's hospital room. Machines beeped steadily.
He lifted a phone. Dialed a number. "Initiate Phase Two."
The screen went black.