My Husband Called Me Repulsive After I Saved His Life—Then the Billionaire Who Owned His Company Summoned Me

The following morning, I sat in a Manhattan conference room with three attorneys, Gideon, and Daniel.

On the table were the original trust documents, the forged medical assessment, and Victor's flash drive.

I had barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the locked fire door.

I heard Preston's voice.

I remembered the hospital room.

And I wondered how many moments of my marriage had been carefully constructed lies.

“Mrs. Hale?””

I looked up.

A woman in a gray suit sat opposite me.

“My name is Margaret Ellis. I'm the attorney handling the trust litigation.””

She opened a folder.

“Your husband has filed an emergency petition claiming that you are incapable of exercising your voting rights.””

I laughed without humor.

“Because I have scars?””

“Because he claims you suffer from severe psychological impairment resulting from the fire.””

I looked at Gideon.

“He's using the fire again.””

Margaret nodded.

“Unfortunately, the petition was provisionally accepted by a judge who has prior professional connections with one of the medical consultants involved.””

“Judge Reeves?””

“Yes.””

I pushed my chair back.

“Then he shouldn't be handling the case.””

“We're preparing a motion for recusal.””

“Preparing?””

Margaret held my gaze.

“We need evidence.””

I looked toward Daniel.

“Do we have it?””

He placed the flash drive on the table.

“Victor's recording is authentic. The contractor has also been located.””

“Where?””

“Queens. He's willing to cooperate.””

Gideon leaned forward.

“What about the original trust?””

Margaret opened another folder.

“That's where things become complicated.””

She removed a document bearing my mother's signature.

“This is the original intellectual property agreement. Your mother transferred the financial platform's commercial rights into the family trust. However, she included a condition.””

I frowned.

“What condition?””

“The platform cannot be sold or transferred without the approval of the trust's controlling beneficiary.””

I stared.

“So Preston couldn't take it?””

“Not legally.””

“Then why did he try?””

Margaret turned another page.

“Because he claims the original agreement was amended shortly before your mother's death.””

I felt cold.

“My mother died when I was twenty-three. Preston hadn't even met me.””

“Exactly.””

She placed a second document beside the first.

It appeared to be a transfer agreement.

My mother's signature was at the bottom.

But something looked wrong.

I leaned closer.

The signature was too neat.

Too perfect.

I recognized the handwriting from my mother's letters. She always wrote the letter W with a small upward curve.

This signature didn't.

“That's forged,” I said.

Margaret nodded.

“Our handwriting expert agrees.””

“Who filed it?””

“Preston's attorney.””

I stared at the page.

“He forged my mother's signature?””

“That's our preliminary conclusion.””

I pressed my fingertips against the table.

“Then what happens next?””

Margaret looked at Gideon.

“We need the original intellectual property archive. Without it, Preston may continue claiming that the transfer was valid.””

Gideon nodded.

“I know where it is.””

I turned toward him.

“Where?””

“Your mother's old house.””

I froze.

The house had been empty since her death.

I had inherited it, but Preston had insisted we sell it after our wedding.

I refused.

He eventually stopped asking.

“It's still there?””

“Yes. Your mother placed several original documents in a private archive beneath the study.””

I stared at him.

“How do you know?””

Gideon looked down.

“Because I helped her build it.””

The room went silent.

I slowly stood.

“You knew my mother?””

“Yes.””

“How well?””

He took a breath.

“Very well.””

I felt a strange mixture of anger and disbelief.

“You've known my family for years, haven't you?””

“I was one of her closest professional partners.””

“And you never told me?””

“I didn't want to interfere with your life.””

“You've been interfering with my life since the moment you called me into your boardroom.””

He accepted the accusation.

“That's true.””

I shook my head.

“I need some air.””

I walked out before anyone could stop me.

Gideon followed several minutes later.

He found me standing beside the building's entrance.

“Vivian.””

I didn't turn.

“Were you in love with my mother?””

He stopped.

The question had been sitting in my mind since he mentioned the archive.

Finally, he answered.

“Yes.””

I closed my eyes.

“Did she love you?””

“I believe she did.””

“Then why didn't you marry her?””

Gideon looked toward the street.

“Because I was twenty-eight and ambitious enough to believe I could build an empire before allowing myself to build a family.””

He gave a quiet, humorless laugh.

“Your mother refused to wait for me to become a better man.””

I turned.

“What happened?””

“She married your father. I respected her decision. I stayed in her life as a friend and business partner.””

“And after she died?””

“I promised her I would protect what she had built.””

I looked at him.

“Is that why you invested in Hale & Sterling?””

“Partly.””

He hesitated.

“And partly because I couldn't bear the thought of everything she had created disappearing.””

For the first time, I saw something behind Gideon's controlled expression.

Grief.

Not the dramatic kind.

The kind that had survived years without an audience.

I lowered my voice.

“Then why didn't you tell me about the trust?””

“I thought your mother had already explained it to you.””

“She told me the company mattered. She told me to protect the original documents. I was twenty-three. I didn't understand.””

Gideon nodded.

“I should have made sure you did.””

I looked away.

“Everyone keeps telling me what they should have done.””

“Then perhaps I should tell you what I intend to do.””

“What?””

“Stand beside you while you take back what belongs to you.””

I studied him.

“Not decide for me?””

“No.””

“Not tell me what to wear or where to go?””

A faint smile crossed his face.

“Definitely not.””

I almost smiled.

Then my phone rang.

An unknown number.

I answered.

“Hello?””

A man's voice spoke.

“Mrs. Hale, this is Judge Malcolm Reeves.””

My stomach tightened.

“How did you get my number?””

“I need to discuss the pending trust matter.””

“Then speak to my attorney.””

“This is a sensitive situation. I would prefer to handle it discreetly.””

I looked at Gideon.

He immediately gestured for me to put the call on speaker.

The judge continued.

“Your husband has presented some concerning evidence. I believe it would be in everyone's interest if you voluntarily transferred temporary voting authority to him.””

I almost laughed.

“And what would be in it for me?””

There was a pause.

“Your divorce proceedings would be considerably easier.””

I looked directly at Gideon.

“Are you threatening me?””

“I'm offering you a practical solution.””

I took a breath.

“Judge Reeves, are you aware that Dr. Malcolm Reeves, who received money from a company associated with Cassidy Vaughn, has been involved in fabricating my medical assessment?””

Silence.

Then his voice hardened.

“You should be careful about making accusations.””

“I'm being careful. That's why I'm recording this conversation.””

He hung up.

Gideon immediately called Margaret.

But before he could explain what had happened, another notification appeared.

A message from Rachel.

*Vivian, someone broke into your mother's house last night. They took something from the study.*

I felt my heart drop.

I called her immediately.

“Rachel, what was taken?””