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After 99 Forgiveness, I Faked My Death and Vanished Novel Cover

After 99 Forgiveness, I Faked My Death and Vanished

For a decade, Melanie dedicated her life to helping Randolph Farley build his empire, only to be rewarded with constant infidelity. On their fifth anniversary, his hundredth public betrayal finally breaks her silence. Pregnant and numb, Melanie walks away from the toxic marriage, presenting his grandfather with a fake certificate to end their ten-year agreement. She vanishes to protect her unborn child, leaving a desperate Randolph to beg the world for her return.
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Chapter 6

### Chapter 6

I knocked Randolph's hand away and ran down the stairs, hunching over by the car as everything came up. As if I could empty my body of him, every trace of him in my memory along with it.

I went back to the "home" I'd built so carefully over five years. Dead center in the living room hung our wedding portrait, the two of us smiling so sweetly in it.

I grabbed the vase off the floor and smashed it straight into those smiling faces.

Crash.

The huge frame toppled over and shattered across the floor.

The housekeeper came running at the noise, fright on her face.

I pointed at the floor. "Burn every photo of me and Mr. Farley."

She froze a moment, didn't dare ask, and got to work.

She piled every album and frame, big and small, out on the lawn in the yard. The flames leapt up and burned through the whole night.

That night, Randolph didn't come home.

I spent the night looking at houses for me and the baby, then called my assistant. "That estate with the best view. Pay in full and close it."

Over the next few days, I packed my luggage and shipped it out, piece by piece.

My estate was on the other side of the ocean, somewhere Randolph would never find us again.

Randolph was lost in Lily's softness, oblivious to all of it, and indifferent. He did start sending things to the house, by way of compensation.

Couture jewelry, expensive prenatal supplements, heaps of designer baby goods. I didn't give any of it a glance. I had the staff sell all of it.

I'd stopped paying him any attention, but his and Lily's affair still blew through Atlanta's upper circles like wind.

He opened a bar for her and showed up every night to lend his support.

He made her the top draw in Atlanta, drove her around himself in a luxury car, the whole show rivaling a top celebrity's.

Some people envied her, said Lily was lucky, that Randolph had never been this generous with any mistress, going everywhere as a pair with her.

Word went around that she'd soon replace me as the Farley lady of the house.

Others said I was the one Grandpa Farley had personally claimed as his grandson's wife, holding half the Farley empire in my hands, and that what Randolph was doing was foolish.

Whatever they said out there, I no longer cared.

Within half a month, I secretly moved every asset under my name.

Two days left until I was gone.

It happened to fall on Farley's centennial gala, where I would appear as the Farley lady of the house for the last time.

The night before the banquet, Randolph came home.

"The housekeeper says you haven't been eating well lately," he said, touching my slightly worn face. "I've been neglecting you. Once the gala's over, I'll take you away somewhere to clear your head."

I turned my head aside. Randolph didn't seem to mind, just took my hand instead.

"There's some gossip online, saying Lily deliberately wrecked our marriage. I'll bring her tomorrow night, get a few friendly photos of the two of you, kill the talk."

In an instant my whole body went rigid, and I understood he hadn't come back for me.

"You want me to be a human shield for your mistress? Never."

The hand around mine tightened all at once. His gaze came down on me like a king's, merciless, and his voice landed word by word.

"I expect you to explain that you invited her yourself, to lend us your support."

My chest clenched. I looked at Randolph, then at the row of bodyguards outside the door.

He'd made up his mind to make me fall in line. There was no room to negotiate.

I closed my eyes and pressed down the bitterness rising in my throat.

"As you wish."

The next evening, at Farley's centennial banquet, the hall blazed with light. The champagne tower threw a thousand streams of light through the crystal chandeliers.

Every important Farley banquet was flawless.

I controlled the details myself from behind the scenes, from the music to the lighting, from the table arrangements to the careful touches on the drapery, while Randolph, with the presence of Farley's CEO, kept command of the mood with ease.

I'd assumed tonight would be the same.

The emcee picked up the microphone and began the grand introduction of the important guests. We'd spent tens of millions to bring in one of the most prestigious, most influential stars to headline.

But at the center where the spotlights converged, it was Lily who came gliding in on Randolph's arm.

And on her head she wore the crown that symbolized the Farley lady of the house.

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