Framed for a Hit-and-Run Reborn to Expose My Wife and Her Ex

Chapter 10

"Why?" Hannah screamed, her bloodshot eyes burning with rage. "Because Liam is the only man I've ever loved! He's the one I've always wanted to marry—only him, Liam Reed!"

Her words echoed with a bitter, venomous edge.

I kept my tone level, unshaken. "If I remember correctly, you were the one who came after me."

"If Liam's the one you've always wanted, then why'd you marry me in the first place?"

Hannah let out a mocking laugh, the sound sharp and filled with disdain.

"Why? Isn't it obvious? For your money, Zach! What else could it be?"

"If it weren't for your fortune, which I've been using to support Liam, do you think I'd waste my time with someone like you?"

Her voice dripped with malice, each word sharper than the last.

"And then you had the audacity to ask for a divorce? If you hadn't brought that up, we could've kept living our little lie. But no—you had to ruin it all."

It hit me all at once. The lies, the betrayal, the framing. It was all because I dared to ask for a divorce. Hannah wasn't satisfied with just her half of the assets. She wanted everything—and that meant plotting this entire scheme with Liam. Even my own father was in on it, scheming to get his hands on the family wealth he'd been coveting for years.

What they didn't count on was me surviving it.

I shook my head slowly, staring at her with cold, indifferent eyes.

"You're burning every bridge to the future just for the sake of the present. Even if you manage to take all my money, then what?"

"When the money runs out, Liam will walk away. And then where will you be?"

Hannah trembled, her voice breaking as she yelled, "You're wrong! Liam would never leave me. He would never!"

I locked eyes with her, my voice steady, like ice. "Really? Then why do you think Liam wanted you to marry me in the first place? It wasn't for love. It was for my money. That's all you ever were to him—a means to an end."

Hannah stood there, frozen, her face draining of color, the weight of the truth crashing down on her.

The officers didn't hesitate. They immediately moved in, guiding her away to the detention center.

Next was my father. Despite his protests of innocence, he was cuffed and dragged off. He was just as guilty as the rest, and now there was no escaping the consequences.

Detective West had made it clear—Hannah was looking at life in prison. My father? Twenty to thirty years at best. By the time he served his time, he'd be too frail to cause any more damage.

I stepped out of the detention center, the morning sun shining bright and clear overhead.

It was a new day—and I was finally free to start my life again.