The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 424

Chapter 208-1

+25 Ponts

I’m sitting at the huge dining table, surrounded by pages of handwritten notes.

My eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, my skin pale, the mug of tea beside me long since turned cold. Every commercial property, every company name, every warehouse location that

I can remember is written down in dark, jagged ink on the notepad in front of me.

The elevator doors slide open with a soft swoosh, and Locke steps out into the foyer.

“Zara?” His deep voice booms through the penthouse, his heavy boots clicking rapidly against the hardwood as he crosses the room in three long strides. “What is it? You sounded terrible on the phone.”

“Hi. Thanks for coming home.”

“What happened?” He drops his leather jacket onto a chair and crouches down beside me, his massive, calloused hand reaching out to cover mine. “Are you in pain? Is it the baby?”

“No,” I say. “No, the baby is fine. I’m… I’m physically okay.”

“Then what is it?”

“Phillip Meade called,” I say, looking down at our joined hands. “My divorce lawyer.”

Locke stills instantly. “Meade. What the hell did he want? Knox is dead.”

“That’s that’s why he called,” I say, swallowed up by a fresh wave of panic. “Locke, the divorce wasn’t finalized, right? Under the law, we were still legally married when he died.”

Locke stares at me. “Alright. So you’re legally his widow. What does that mean for the probate? I mean, surely he wrote an updated will, right?”

I take a deep breath. “No. The fucking idiot didn’t do that. Under the law, I’m his sole next of kin, I’m the heir to everything he owned. The house, his bank accounts, and all of his commercial holdings. Including…”

“Yes?”

–

“Including the warehouse with with the fentanyl lab.”

Locke’s reaction isn’t immediate rage or shock. It’s a sudden, terrifying stillness.

He slowly stands up to his full, towering height, picking up the notepad from the table. His eyes trace down the list of corporate entities and property addresses. His face turns to carved stone.

208 1

• 75 Pounty

“What about the baby?” Locke asks suddenly, his eyes darkening as he looks down at me.

“Knox’s kid with Becca?”

“I asked Mr. Meade about that.” I swallow hard. “He said an unborn child gets nothing automatically under statutory law. He said if that baby is going to get a single cent of Knox’s estate, Becca would have to hire lawyers and drag me through a massive, public probate battle to challenge my rights on the child’s behalf.”

“Shit. So it’s all yours.”

“I know. I tried to tell Mr. Meade that I don’t want any of it, but -”

“Legally, that’s not an option,” Locke finishes. “You need to deal with this.”

“Yes.”

Knox walks to the windows, looking out over the water as his mind works through the tactical reality. The shadows of the early afternoon stretch long across the hardwood, but inside the penthouse, the atmosphere feels suffocatingly tense.

A realization suddenly hits me, making my blood run completely ice-cold in my veins. My breath hitches sharply, the pen slipping from my fingers and clattering against the wood

floor.

“Oh, God,” I whisper, my voice trembling so violently it barely carries across the quiet room. “Locke… the money Vane gave to Knox.”

Locke turns his head slowly. “What about it?”

“Vane floated Knox millions,” I choke out, overcome with sheer terror as the full picture snaps into place. “He funded the chemical precursors, the lab equipment, the shipping routes for the entire regional fentanyl network. It was Vane’s blood money that built Knox’s drug operation into what it was.”

I cover my face with trembling hands, a ragged sob catching in my throat.

“Now Knox is dead, and the state is handing me the keys to his empire,” I say, looking up at him in horror. “That means… on paper, under the law, I own the assets Vane paid for. I’m sitting on Vane’s investment. Locke, I’m technically in business with him!”

Locke’s eyes flare with a sudden, lethal fire. He paces back toward the table, resting his massive palms flat on the wood.