My Fiancé Let Me Rot in Jail

Oakley Jimenez arrived at the Knight estate at 2:00 p.m. on a Thursday with a leather folder tucked under her arm and concern painted across her face.

The housekeeper let her in. Oakley had been coming to this house since she was seven years old. She knew which floorboards creaked. Which hallway led to the kitchen. Which door was Edward Knight's study.

She knocked twice. Soft. Respectful.

"Come in," Edward said.

She pushed the door open. He was seated in the leather chair by the window, a blanket across his lap despite the room's warmth. Eighty-two years old. Frail in the way that comes on slowly, then all at once. But his eyes were still sharp.

"Oakley," he said. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I know." She stepped inside, closed the door behind her. "I needed to talk to you. About Scarlet."

Edward's expression shifted. Guarded. "What about her?"

Oakley crossed the room. Set the folder on the small table beside his chair. Sat down across from him.

"I don't know how to say this," she said. Her voice was quiet. Pained. "I've been struggling with it for weeks. But you deserve to know the truth."

Edward looked at the folder. Didn't touch it.

"Scarlet was arrested," Oakley said. "Did Colton tell you?"

"He mentioned an investigation."

"It wasn't just an investigation. She sold proprietary data. Trade secrets. She's been doing it for months."

Edward's hands tightened on the armrests. "That's a serious accusation."

"I know." Oakley opened the folder. Pulled out the first document. A financial transfer log with Scarlet's name highlighted. "This is from the forensic audit. She transferred files to a competitor. Received payments into an offshore account."

She set the paper on his lap.

Edward picked it up. His hands were shaking slightly. He read it twice.

"There's more," Oakley said. She pulled out another document. An email chain. Fabricated. Professional. Scarlet's name at the top. "She's been working with Marcus Chen at BioGenix. They've been planning this for over a year."

Edward set the first paper down. Took the second. Read it.

"I didn't want to believe it either," Oakley said. Her voice broke just enough. "I know you cared about her. But she used that. She used all of us."

Edward looked up at her. His face was pale.

"Where did you get these?" he asked.

"Colton's legal team. They've been trying to keep it quiet. Protect the family's reputation." She leaned forward. "But I thought you deserved to know what kind of person she really is."

Edward looked back down at the papers. His breathing had changed. Shorter. Shallower.

"She wasn't just stealing data," Oakley said. Softer now. Almost a whisper. "She was sleeping with Chen. That's how it started. He recruited her. Used her feelings for Colton as cover while she dismantled everything you built."

Edward's hand went to his chest. Light. Reflexive.

"Are you all right?" Oakley asked.

"I'm fine," he said. But his voice was tight.

Oakley stood. Walked to the window. Looked out at the garden.

"I keep thinking about all the times she was in this house," she said. "All the dinners. The holidays. She sat at your table. You welcomed her." She turned back to face him. "And the whole time, she was stealing from you."

Edward's breathing was audible now. Labored.

"She destroyed Colton," Oakley continued. Her voice rose. Not much. Just enough. "The arrest. The investigation. The board is calling for his resignation. Everything you built. Everything you gave him. She's taking it apart piece by piece."

"Oakley—"

"She doesn't care about this family. She never did. She saw an opportunity and she took it."

Edward tried to stand. His legs didn't hold. He sank back into the chair.

"Edward?" Oakley stepped forward. Fast. Concerned.

His hand was pressed against his chest now. Hard. His face had gone gray.

"I need—" He couldn't finish the sentence.

Oakley grabbed her phone. Dialed. Her voice when she spoke was perfect. Panicked. Desperate.

"I need an ambulance. Knight estate. He's having a heart attack."

In the hallway, Harold stood frozen. He'd heard the raised voice. Heard the shift in Edward's breathing. He'd taken two steps toward the door.

Then stopped.

It wasn't his place. Mr. Knight had visitors all the time. Miss Jimenez had known the family for years.

He turned and walked back toward the kitchen.

Inside the study, Edward's eyes were closed. His breathing had gone shallow. Irregular.

Oakley knelt beside him. Put her hand on his.

"Hold on," she said. "They're coming."

He didn't respond.

The paramedics arrived fourteen minutes later. They worked fast. Professional. Efficient.

Edward Knight was pronounced dead at 3:47 p.m.

Oakley called Colton from the estate. Her voice was shaking. Raw.

"It's your grandfather," she said. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Colton didn't remember the drive. Just the hallway. The study. The empty chair by the window.

Oakley was sitting on the couch. Her face was streaked with tears.

She stood when she saw him. Crossed the room. Put her arms around him.

"I was here," she whispered. "I was talking to him. About Scarlet. About what she did." Her voice broke. "He was so upset. He kept saying he trusted her. That he'd welcomed her into the family."

Colton pulled back. Looked at her.

"What?"

"The arrest. The investigation. I showed him the evidence. He was devastated." Tears ran down her face. "His heart couldn't take it. The betrayal. The shame. It killed him, Colton. She killed him."

Colton stared at the empty chair.

"I should have protected him," Oakley said. "I should have kept it from him. But he asked. He wanted to know the truth about her."

Colton's hands were shaking.

"Where is she?" he asked.

His voice was flat. Cold.

"Who?"

"Scarlet."

Oakley touched his arm. Gentle. "Colton—"

"Where is she?"

"At her apartment. But you shouldn't—"

He walked out.

Oakley stood in the study. Looked at the empty chair. At the folder still sitting on the side table.

She picked it up. Tucked it under her arm.

Walked out without looking back.