He Loved His Sister-in-law, I Married His Rival

The moment she signed, it was done. Settled.

A breath she hadn't known she was holding finally left her.

Annette was already picturing it, ready to book the first flight to France she could find. But when she opened her phone, there they were: dozens of missed calls.

Every one of them from Nathan.

Then the phone rang again in her hand.

She hesitated for a second, then answered.

Before she could get a word out, Nathan's voice came through the line, tight with held-back fury:

"Annette. So you'll finally pick up."

"I'm asking you. Where's Mila?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Don't play dumb with me." His voice went flat and cold. "Mila's gone. Someone grabbed her on the way home from school. The kidnappers just sent a video. Guess who I saw in it?"

Her fingers tightened around the phone, and a sharp unease rose in her chest.

"...Who?"

"Your father!"

He bit the words out.

"Annette, is this because you were upset earlier? Because I made you apologize, because I carried Naomi to the hospital and left you behind? So now you can't stand it, and you sent your father to snatch Mila to even the score?"

Her mind went white with a single roaring blank.

That was impossible.

Her father had no reason to kidnap Mila Henson.

Yes, he had his sharp edges in business, but he was not a man who would lay a hand on a child.

"I didn't tell anyone to take Mila Henson. I swear it before God."

There were a few seconds of silence on the line. Then Nathan said,

"Swearing won't help. I've already tracked your phone."

"If a single hair on Mila's head is harmed, Annette, I won't spare a single one of you Butlers."

The call cut off.

At the same moment, an email dropped into her inbox.

The French company. Welcoming her aboard.

If it had come a little sooner, Annette would have been overjoyed. Now, she only felt cold all the way through.

The black Maybach tore up to the curb. Nathan's face was a wall of storm. He clamped a hand around her wrist and dragged her toward the car.

"You're coming with me."

Nathan brought her back to the mansion.

"Why are you bringing me here? Where's Mila? Shouldn't you be out looking for her?"

He gave a cold laugh.

"Pry your father's mouth open, and we'll have Mila's whereabouts, won't we?"

"Annie, I can't bring myself to hurt you. But that doesn't mean I'll go easy on your father."

Her heart dropped hard in her chest.

Before she could ask what he meant, she saw him. Her father, trussed up and bound on the basement floor.

He'd already been through one round of it. He was covered in blood.

The tears came at once.

Nathan strolled to the sofa and sat down without a care.

"Chairman Butler, I'll ask you one more time."

"Where's Mila?"

Oliver Butler coughed twice, brought up a mouthful of bloody foam, and still held firm.

"I don't know... that little girl you're talking about... where she is..."

Nathan's eyes turned to ice.

He tilted his head, and a guard in black stepped forward at once.

Annette's eyes went wide with terror. She threw herself in front of her father. "Nathan! Stop it! You can't do this to my father!"

He looked down at her, not a trace of warmth in his gaze.

"Annie. Move."

"I won't!" She flung her arms out wide.

She was shaking from head to foot, but she didn't give an inch.

"You lay one more finger on my father today, you kill me first!"

Nathan was silent for two seconds.

Then he bent down, leaned close to her ear, and said low,

"You think I won't?"

He looked at Oliver, easy and unhurried.

"Chairman Butler, I don't want to take this all the way. But your daughter is standing right here, and whether she lives or dies depends on your next sentence."

"Tell me. Where did Annie have you stash Mila?"

Her father's whole body shook violently.

"Nathan, you animal! I never should have married Annie to you... You've got the nerve, you come at me, you leave my daughter out of it!"

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Come at you? Haven't I been coming at you this whole time?"

He waved a hand at the guard. "Look after the Chairman properly."

Blood. So much blood.

Annette had never seen that much blood, pouring out of her own father.

Her mouth fell open, but not a sound would come.

Her heart hurt as if ten thousand silver needles had been driven into it.

The tears ran down her face, and then she heard Nathan again:

"Forgot to mention, Chairman. I happened to let the press in on how you built your fortune."

He glanced at his watch. "By now Butler Group's stock has probably already hit its limit down. Another drop at tomorrow's open, and you'll be just about ready to file for bankruptcy."

The words hit Annette like a bolt out of the sky.

Even her father, in the middle of his torment, stared in shock.

The past came flooding back all at once.

That year, Nathan had come to the Butler home to discuss the marriage with her.

He'd sat in the living room a whole afternoon, played three games of chess with her father, talked the economy for two hours.

Annette had caught a few of their lines.

She'd heard Nathan say, "Mr. Butler, rest assured. Once Annie marries me, I'll treat her well. She does what she likes, and I'll never force her into anything she doesn't want. I'll keep her in the palm of my hand and never let her suffer the smallest wrong."

She'd heard him say something else:

"As for those old matters you mentioned. Don't worry. From now on, they stay between you and me alone. I'm your son-in-law, half a son to you. And what son would ever sell out his father?"

She'd heard her father's hearty laugh.

"Good man. With a word like that, I'll hand Annie over to you and rest easy."

That night her father had been in fine spirits, and broke his own rule for an extra couple of drinks. He'd taken her hand and said, with real weight behind it,

"Annie, Nathan's a good one. A man worth trusting with you. I've lived a long time, and I'm still a good judge of people."

Back then she'd ducked her head, cheeks flushed, smiling, her heart sweet as if it had been poured full of honey.

There the memory cut off short.

Annette was back in the cold of the present.

Watching her father's agony, her heart bled with his.

Dad, you were wrong about him.