The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Abigail

I stared at the laptop screen until the words and images blurred together into a nauseating haze.

This had to be some kind of joke. First of all, how was Lander Logistics a subsidiary of Wolfe Corporation?

Finnegan’s company had owned it for fifteen years. The proof was right there in black and white on the archived company records, ownership documents, and financial reports.

No — if it were a subsidiary of Wolfe Corporation, Finnegan had an almost perfect memory; he would have known all this time that the company my parents worked with was one of Wolfe Corporation’s subsidiaries.

There’s no way he could have pretended not to know. What if he was pretending? My hands started shaking so badly that I had to set the laptop down on the coffee table.

"No," I whispered, voice barely audible. "This can’t be real. It can’t be."

Annette sat beside me on the couch, her face even paler as she scrolled through the old security footage.

My parents were there, standing in front of a man flanked by bodyguards, shaking his hand in what looked like a formal meeting. The man looked exactly like Finnegan.

The same sharp jawline, same broad shoulders — hell, I could even feel his commanding presence through the camera.

The scanned images of the documents retrieved from the phone bore Finnegan’s signature. I was his assistant, and I knew his signature by heart!

How on earth was all the evidence — every piece of evidence — on this phone pointing to Finnegan?

It couldn’t be him. I felt like the floor had been ripped out from under me. The man I was falling in love with, the man who had held me so tenderly in Santorini, who had protected me at the gala, who had looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in his world... could he really be the one responsible for my parents’ deaths?

The thought made me feel physically sick. My stomach churned, bile rising in my throat. I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to breathe through the nausea.

"No," I said again, forcefully this time, shaking my head hard. "This is wrong. Finnegan would never... He couldn’t have done this. He’s not like that."

Annette gazed softly at me. "Abby... are you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out."

I rose abruptly, pacing the living room. My bare feet were cold against the floor. My brows drew together as I tried to make sense of the impossible.

"It’s not possible," I repeated, my voice cracking.

"Finnegan would never have been responsible for that. He’s trying to help me find the truth, not hide it. He’s been supporting me through everything. This has to be fake. That’s why they left the phone for us to find — they wanted to give us false leads to throw us off!"

Annette sighed, eyeing me warily.

"Girl, don’t look at me like that. I’m not crazy," I scoffed.

She pressed her lips together. "Abigail... I know you care about him deeply. But what if that’s just your feelings talking? The evidence is right here. The ownership records, the footage, the signatures. It all lines up."

I stopped pacing and turned to her, my lips curling in disbelief. "You don’t know him the way I do, Annie."

" You don’t see the way he looks at me. He can be cold and ruthless in business, yes. He can be demanding and controlling. But he’s not cruel. He’s the warmest man I’ve ever known."

"When he loves, when he feels... he does it completely. I’ve seen him tolerate his talkative driver without firing him, even when the man drives him crazy. I’ve seen him stay late to make sure his employees got home safely after long projects."

"I’ve seen him worry about Angel’s happiness more than anything else in the world. He’s protective. He’s caring. He’s... he’s good! Not a murderer."

I glared at the laptop screen, seething. "It’s not Finnegan. It can’t be him. Maybe the videos are edited. Maybe someone deepfaked his face or altered the footage. There has to be an explanation."

Annette reached over and took my hand, squeezing it gently. "I want to believe that too. For your sake. But I checked the files, and the timestamps match. They’re original recordings, babes."

I felt like the world was tilting beneath me. My legs gave out, and I sank back onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. The man I was falling in love with, the man who had made me feel safe and desired — could he really be the monster behind all of this?

The thought was unbearable and extremely ridiculous but the proof was right in front of me. I watched the video again, thinking maybe I had it all wrong.

Why would he take me to the Ministry of Justice to help me? Why would he beat up Gavin when Gavin had attacked me? If it was him behind it all, wouldn’t he have recognized my grandparents and tried to get rid of all of us?

It wasn’t him. Someone else was trying to frame Finnegan. But how was he in that video, and he didn’t mention, not even for one day, that the Lander company was one of Wolfe’s side companies?

"We’ll confront him," I said finally, dragging a hand down my face roughly. "We’ll show him everything and ask him directly. There has to be an explanation. I refuse to believe he’s capable of this."

Annette nodded slowly. "Okay. Makes sense. I’ll bet he has better first aid at his place anyway. We shouldn’t be here just in case Gavin’s folks come looking for us."

That was very true. Packing up as much of our stuff as we could, we drove back to Finn’s house in the suburbs.

I trusted Finnegan. He would never be behind this. There was a logical explanation for this, and as close as I was to losing my mind, I refused to give in to doubt.

We had barely walked in when River screamed in horror. "Holy smokes, what the hell happened to you guys?!"

"Where’s Finnegan?" I asked immediately, my voice tight.

River shook her head, still gaping at Annette’s face. "He isn’t home yet. None of us knows where he is. He hasn’t been answering his phone."

My heart sank to my stomach.