The Lies Behind Her Marriage novel Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: The Safe**

The Safe.

Serena stood frozen, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if seeking comfort from the very fabric of her clothes.

Her heart raced like a wild animal trapped within her chest, each beat echoing her silent plea, ‘Please, don’t tell the police.’

Before her, Nathaniel Thorne towered, his features sharp and defined under the harsh glow of the overhead light. His jaw was taut, and she could see the way his breath caught in his throat, his blue-gray eyes momentarily betraying a flicker of the man he once was—a man full of life, unburdened by the weight of the world.

In an instant, he regained his composure, standing tall as he moved toward the window, crossing the room with an air of urgency. He opened it wide, the cool night air rushing in, before returning to the closet and shutting it with deliberate slowness, as if to keep their secret safe.

“Stay quiet,” he instructed, his voice low and firm.

“Is there someone there?” a voice, unfamiliar and authoritative, called from the other side.

“Nothing, officer,” Nathaniel replied, his tone smooth and familiar. “It was probably just the wind. A pen holder got knocked over.”

Within moments, the sound of footsteps filled the study, accompanied by a chorus of voices, each one adding to the tension in the air.

“Everything seems to be in order,” one officer remarked.

“Yeah, we would have noticed anyone coming onto the property. I must not have closed the window properly earlier,” another added, as if to reassure themselves.

“Officer, you should make sure to close the window properly. Stray cats could easily get in,” Bianca’s voice chimed in, laced with concern.

Serena’s mind raced as she pondered what Nathaniel and Bianca were doing there at such a late hour. Her thoughts were interrupted when Bianca continued, “Officer, have you searched the place thoroughly? I really need to retrieve that unpublished research on neurological disorders.”

“We have checked every corner of the house, Ma’am. We found nothing,” the officer responded, his tone professional yet slightly weary.

“Officer, do you mind if I take a look around myself?” Nathaniel interjected, his voice steady. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Mother, you should head back. The driver can take you home,” Nathaniel suggested, his demeanor shifting as he turned to Bianca. “I can ask Gavin to pick me up.”

“What? No, we should just go back together, Son,” Bianca urged, her tone insistent.

“Mother, the research is very important to us,” Nathaniel insisted, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “You should go home and rest.”

Serena listened intently, her heart pounding with anxiety. She silently thanked whatever forces were at play that Nathaniel had chosen not to reveal her presence. The mere thought of Bianca discovering her hiding place sent shivers down her spine.

A brief silence hung in the air before Bianca finally relented, “Okay, I am feeling a bit tired.”

“Officer, could you please escort my mother back to the driveway?” Nathaniel asked, his voice calm yet urgent. “I’ll start looking around.”

Another moment of stillness passed, but the officer eventually agreed. Soon, the sound of footsteps receded, leaving the study in a tense silence.

“Call me when you get home, Mom,” Nathaniel called out, his voice echoing softly as the door clicked shut behind them.

Serena remained motionless in the closet, her breath shallow as she heard Nathaniel’s familiar footsteps returning. Suddenly, he flung open the closet door, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that felt almost accusatory.

“WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING?” he demanded, his voice a mixture of anger and concern. “If the police had found you, you would have been arrested!”

“You didn’t find what you were looking for?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny.

Serena shook her head, but her gaze fell upon the cigar box once more, a frown creasing her brow.

A cigar cutter might very well hold Victor’s DNA.

She opened the box to find it half-filled, the cigar cutter nestled inside. The brand was one of those expensive cigars, and she turned to Nathaniel with hope. “Can I take this? It’s a very expensive cigar. I could sell it for a thousand dollars.”

“Serena, if you need money, you can just ask me,” he replied, but when she frowned, he relented, “Fine, take it.”

She quickly stowed the cigar box inside her sling bag, feeling a sense of relief wash over her.

Nathaniel began sifting through the documents from the safe, his focus intense. After a moment, he pulled out one file, his expression shifting to one of realization. “This is what we were looking for.”

Serena’s eyes landed on the clear folder, her heart racing as she read the title: [Emerging Therapeutic Approaches for Cerebrovascular Disorders.]

Just a year ago, Serena had suggested studying neurological disorders and potential treatments. The work before them was an unfinished study by one of their old college professors. She had wanted to continue it, but Nathaniel had firmly stated, “We don’t invest in projects that bleed money for years without guaranteed breakthroughs.”

Confusion clouded her thoughts as she asked, “Why are you suddenly interested in that research?”

“I—” Nathaniel opened his mouth to respond, but just then, they heard footsteps approaching the study.

“Mr. Thorne, is everything okay back there?” It was the police officer, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

“Quick, back in the closet!” Nathaniel ordered, urgency lacing his tone, and without hesitation, Serena obeyed, her heart racing as she slipped back into the shadows.