A poor student married a 70-year-old millionaire and a week later was sh0cked by what he saw.

Later that night, Mark lay wide awake in bed, his thoughts racing. Eleanor’s words haunted him, as did the documents and the journal. Why had she gone to such lengths to involve him in her plans? Was it only about revenge?

His thoughts were interrupted by Eleanor’s faint voice. Mark slipped out of bed and crept toward her study, pressing his ear to the door.

“Make sure the transfer is complete,” Eleanor said sharply, her tone cold and authoritative. “We can’t let him back out now. Time is running out.”

Mark’s blood ran cold. Whatever was happening, he was in far deeper than he had ever imagined.

Later, Mark sat alone in the grand library, his mind swirling with fear and confusion. Eleanor’s cryptic words and the incriminating contents of the locked room made one thing clear: he was trapped. The once-imposing estate now felt like a gilded prison, its luxury concealing dark secrets.

That night, Mark approached Mr. Harris, the estate’s head butler—a man whose calm demeanor suggested he had seen and heard far more than he let on.

“Mr. Harris,” Mark said quietly, “I need your help. Something isn’t right here.”

The older man studied him with a steady gaze, his hands clasped behind his back. “I was wondering how long it would take you to come to me. You know something, don’t you, Mark? About Eleanor. About all of this.”

Mr. Harris hesitated before speaking. “You’re not the first young man drawn into Eleanor’s world, Mark. She’s brilliant, calculating, and relentless when it comes to her goals.”

“My advice? Protect yourself.”

A tightness settled in Mark’s chest. “Then why do you stay, if you know what she’s capable of?”

Mr. Harris’s expression softened, regret flickering across his face. “Some of us can’t afford to leave.”

Determined to find a way out, Mark began to form a plan. He contacted Peter, a trusted friend from law school, under the pretense of catching up.

“Peter,” Mark said, “hypothetically, if someone signed a contract under coercion or deception, is there any way to invalidate it?”

“Hypothetically, yes,” Peter replied, “but it depends on the evidence. Why? Are you in trouble?”

Mark deflected. “Just a class project I’m working on.”

“Thanks, man.”

Over the following days, Mark carefully searched Eleanor’s office whenever she was away, hoping to uncover something that explained her obsession with his father. One night, while rifling through her desk, he found an envelope addressed to his father.

The letter was a scathing indictment, written by Eleanor herself. It accused Mark’s father of embezzlement, fraud, and deception that had led to the financial ruin of Eleanor’s family—and ultimately to her husband’s death.

You left us with nothing. My husband couldn’t withstand the pressure and died because of you. I will make sure your family pays for what you did.

Mark’s stomach churned.
Eleanor’s actions weren’t just about reclaiming her fortune—they were driven by revenge, fueled by years of pain and anger. After returning the letter to its hiding place, Mark made a decision.

He couldn’t allow Eleanor to use him as a tool for her vengeance.

That night, Mark began planning possible escape routes from the estate, but Eleanor’s sharp instincts caught his unease. The next morning, she found him in the dining room, her icy presence breaking the silence.

“Eleanor, you’ve been busy, haven’t you?”
Mark froze, his spoon halfway to his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Eleanor smiled coldly. “Don’t play games with me, Mark. If you think you can outsmart me, you’re sorely mistaken. I’ve dealt with opponents far more cunning than you.”

Mark swallowed hard, struggling to keep his voice steady. “I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, but I’m not doing anything wrong.”

Eleanor stepped closer, lowering her voice to a poisonous whisper. “If you betray me, you’ll wish you hadn’t. Remember that.”

She straightened and left the room, leaving Mark to grapple with the growing realization that escaping might be more dangerous than staying. But staying meant surrendering his life to Eleanor’s twisted plans—something he refused to accept.

Overwhelmed, Mark wandered through the library, the weight of his discovery pressing down on him. The private investigator he had discreetly hired had just left, confirming the devastating truth. Eleanor’s late husband, Harold Brooks, had been swindled by Mark’s father in a fraudulent real estate deal that stripped the Brooks family of their fortune.

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