Page 41 of Entrapped
“Go rest,” I urged, leading him to our bedroom. “I’ll bring you some tea.”
He grumbled something about not being an invalid, but the moment his head hit the pillow, he sighed deeply, his body relaxing into the mattress. I watched as his breathing evened out, his exhaustion overtaking him faster than I’d expected. Once I was sure he was asleep, I quietly left the room, my heart pounding in my chest as I headed toward his office.
I’d never snooped before, not like this and Orville was always lurking around. But something was gnawing at me, a sense that Colson was keeping something significant from me—something that had him talking about his own death more than once today.
His office was dimly lit, the late afternoon light filtering through the curtains. I hesitated only for a moment before steppinginside, the thick carpet muffling my footsteps. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, a reminder of his presence even when he wasn’t there.
I started with his desk, opening drawers one by one. Most of what I found were mundane items—pens, notepads, files on various investments. But I was looking for something more…something that would explain the tension I’d felt in him lately.
I found a few doctor receipts buried under some papers, my breath hitching as I read through them. Annual exams, nothing out of the ordinary. I frowned, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. If he was sick, it wasn’t something he was seeing a doctor for, at least not in a way that left a paper trail.
As I moved to the lower drawers, my fingers brushed against something hard and metallic—a lock. I paused, staring at the drawer for a moment. A locked drawer? Why hadn’t I noticed this before?
I sat back on my heels, my mind racing. Then it hit me—the key. The one I’d found months ago on the floor, the one I’d kept tucked away in my jewelry box, unsure of what it opened. I bolted up and hurried to our bedroom, quietly retrieving the key from its hiding place while Colson remained sound asleep.
Back in his office, I knelt in front of the locked drawer, my heart hammering in my chest as I fit the key into the lock. It slid in smoothly, and with a soft click, the drawer opened.
I hesitated for a moment, a part of me afraid of what I might find. But I couldn’t stop now. I pulled the drawer open and began sifting through its contents.
At first glance, there were more documents—legal papers, some bank statements. But something caught my eye—a manilaenvelope, thicker than the others. I reached for it, my fingers trembling as I pulled it out.
I wasn’t even thinking about the cameras that Colson had installed around the house, capturing every movement. Right now, I didn’t care if I was caught. This was too important.
With a deep breath, I opened the envelope and pulled out a series of photographs, followed by several typed pages. My eyes widened as I skimmed through the documents. It was his latest will dated just two weeks ago. I didn’t have time to process everything.
Just as I was about to delve deeper, I heard a creak from the hallway. My heart jumped into my throat. Had Colson woken up? Or was it Orville? I quickly closed the drawer and locked it again, slipping the key into my pocket as I carefully returned the papers to where I found them.
I stood up, taking a moment to calm my breathing before stepping out of the office. I had found something, but I wasn’t sure exactly what it all meant. Not yet. All I knew was that whatever Colson was hiding, it was big. And it was only a matter of time before I uncovered the full truth.
I sat in the armchair by the window as the moon rose. The house was quiet, a rare lull that allowed me to sink into the story, though my mind kept drifting back to the documents I’d found. I couldn’t stop thinking about them—about the implications of what I’d read. But with Colson finally getting some much-needed rest and Orville skulking around in the guise of cleaning, I didn’t dare go back to his office to investigate further. Not yet.
Colson had spent the entire day in bed, catching up on the sleep his body so desperately needed. I’d been in and out of our bedroom, checking on him, making sure he had everything he needed—tea, water, a light lunch. He’d thanked me, his voice soft and tired, before drifting back to sleep each time. It had been a peaceful day, at least on the surface.
But underneath, I was a mess. My hands trembled slightly as I turned the page, the words blurring together as my mind wandered back to the manila envelope, the photographs, and the documents I’d barely had time to skim.
What I’d seen was enough to make my heart race, enough to fill me with dread and confusion. I needed to get back to that drawer, to go through everything carefully. I had to understand what I was dealing with.
The sound of the front door slamming jolted me from my thoughts. I looked up, startled, as heavy footsteps echoed through the hall. Before I could fully process what was happening, Vaughn stormed into the room, his face twisted in anger.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, his voice sharp and accusatory.
I blinked, closing my book and setting it aside. “Vaughn, what…”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Josephine,” he snapped, cutting me off. He stepped closer, his eyes blazing with fury. “You think you can just distract my father from his work? Keep him holed up in bed all day like some lovesick teenager?”
My heart pounded in my chest as I rose to my feet, trying to keep my voice steady. “Vaughn, Colson needed rest. He’s beenpushing himself too hard, and he wasn’t feeling well. I was just…”
“Just what? Playing the doting wife?” He sneered, his tone dripping with bitterness. “Using your body to keep him from the office, from his responsibilities? Is that your plan, Josephine? To seduce him into abandoning everything he’s built?”
I felt a flush of anger rise within me. Vaughn’s accusations were sharp, cutting deep, but they were also ridiculous. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice low and firm. “Colson needed to rest. He’s been exhausted, and you’ve seen it yourself. I didn’t force him to do anything.”
Vaughn let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? I’ve seen how you manipulate him, how you worm your way into his good graces. But you’re not fooling me, Josephine. You may have him wrapped around your finger, but I see right through you.”
I took a step back, feeling the weight of his words which was a lie. I had no one wrapped around my finger, especially my husband. Vaughn’s anger was palpable, a force that seemed to fill the room. But beneath that anger, I sensed something else—something more personal. This wasn’t just about Colson’s work. Vaughn was bitter, jealous even, and it was tearing him apart.
“Vaughn, this isn’t about you,” I said softly, trying to defuse the situation. “Colson’s health is what matters right now. We both want what’s best for him.”
“What’s best for him?” Vaughn scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “What’s best for him is to be in the office, running the company—not lying in bed while you play nursemaid.”
