Ninety-Nine Letters, A Thousand Lies

Aubrey Burris POV:

The bright lights of the gala hall burned into my eyes. Every flash of a camera felt like a physical assault. My head throbbed. The world spun in a haze. But I kept my teeth clenched. My spine rigid. Cooper' s hand, a suffocating weight, rested on the small of my back. Forcing me forward.

"Smile, Aubrey," he murmured, his voice a silken threat against my ear. "You're a Mcknight. You have a reputation to uphold."

My body moved on its own. A puppet on his strings. Dressed in a shimmering gown I didn't choose. My hair styled into an intricate updo I didn't want. The perfect trophy wife.

Across the room, Kennedy sparkled. Her dress was designer. Her smile, brilliant and predatory. She moved through the crowd like a queen. Surrounded by fawning journalists and industry titans. She caught my eye. A flicker of triumph. A smug, knowing smirk. She was here. Present. Undeniably real. While I felt like a ghost.

A hush fell over the room. Cooper stepped forward. Clearing his throat. He tapped a microphone. The clink echoed through the opulent hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. His voice smooth. Confident. "Tonight marks a new chapter. For my company. For our future. And for my family."

He paused. His gaze sweeping over the crowd. Then, briefly, to me. My heart hammered. What new humiliation awaited me?

"You may have noticed," he continued, a subtle smirk playing on his lips, "a certain… mark on my beautiful wife, Aubrey." He gestured vaguely towards my neck. My hand instinctively flew up. Covering the angry red hickey. The one he' d put there last night. With brutal force. After the clinic. A mark of his ownership. A twisted display of dominance.

The cameras flashed. A murmur rippled through the crowd. My cheeks burned. A wave of shame washed over me. He was exposing me. Publicly. For his own twisted narrative.

"Some might speculate," Cooper chuckled. A fake, lighthearted sound. "But let me assure you. It's simply a testament to the… passion we share. A little souvenir from our anniversary celebration." He winked at the crowd. A performance. A grotesque lie.

My stomach churned. A bile taste rising in my throat. I wanted to scream. To tear off the gown. To expose him for the monster he was. But I was trapped. His hand still on my back. His eyes, a silent warning.

"And speaking of new beginnings," Cooper continued, his voice gaining momentum, "tonight, I have the distinct honor of introducing you to the force behind our next groundbreaking venture. The woman who will lead our new architectural innovation division. The visionary. The brilliant mind. The true heiress of the Olsen legacy. Kennedy Patel."

He gestured to Kennedy. She stepped forward. Bathed in the spotlight. Her smile radiant. Her eyes, fixed on him, full of adoration. And triumph.

"Kennedy will be leading our new European branch, focusing on sustainable urban development, in partnership with the Olsen Corporation. A groundbreaking initiative, driven by her unparalleled talent and her unique family heritage." Cooper beamed. Proud. Possessive.

Applause erupted. A thunderous sound that vibrated through my bones. Journalists clamored. Flashes popped. Kennedy revelled in it. She was the star. The darling. The fake heiress. And I was the silent, bruised prop.

A reporter, bold and brash, pushed through the crowd. Thrusting a microphone in my face. "Mrs. Mcknight! About that hickey… is it really from a passionate anniversary? Or is it a cry for help?"

My facade cracked. Just for a second. My eyes met the reporter's. A flicker of raw pain. Fear.

Cooper's arm tightened around my waist. Pulling me closer. "My wife is simply overwhelmed tonight," he said. His voice smooth. Controlled. "She's always been a private person. But yes. It was a very passionate anniversary. And I intend to keep her very, very happy." He squeezed my waist. A warning. A promise.

Then, before the reporter could ask another question, he leaned in. His lips brushing my ear. "Don't disappoint me, Aubrey." His voice was a cold whisper. "Remember Jonna."

The words were a leash around my neck. Pulling me back from the brink. I forced a smile. A brittle, meaningless gesture. My body felt numb. My mind retreated to a safe, dark place. The pain was too much. The humiliation, too profound. I was nothing but a prop. A living, breathing lie.

The media, of course, ate it up. "Cooper Mcknight's passionate display for his wife at the gala!" "Aubrey Mcknight: Bruised but beautiful!" They glorified his possessiveness. Romanticized my pain. It was a sickness.

Later that night, Cooper was at another after-party. Toasting Kennedy' s success. While I sat alone in the opulent suite. He' d left a small, velvet box on the dressing table. Inside, a diamond necklace. A bribe. A peace offering. Another symbol of his control.

"You're a good girl, Aubrey," he' d said earlier, his hand lingering on my cheek. "Cooperate, and you'll want for nothing."

I watched my reflection in the mirror. My eyes, shadowed and haunted, stared back. I wasn't a good girl. I was a prisoner. But the fire was still there. A tiny, flickering ember of defiance. I would not want for nothing. I would want everything he had stolen.

The next day, I met Jonna. She looked fragile. Pale. But her eyes still held that fierce spark. We met at a quiet cafe. Far from prying eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Aubrey," Jonna whispered. Her voice thick with shame. "He threatened me. And then… the photos. Everywhere. I felt so exposed. So violated."

"I know, Jonna," I said. My hand reaching across the table. Gripping hers. "I'm so sorry. I should have protected you better."

"No!" she insisted. "It's not your fault. It's his. He's a monster. And Kennedy… she's a viper." Her eyes narrowed. "But what are you going to do? You can't just let him get away with this."

"I'm not," I said. My voice low. Firm. I looked her directly in the eye. "I'm leaving. Soon. And I'm going to expose everything. The marriage fraud. The identity theft. Everything."

Jonna' s jaw dropped. Her eyes wide with shock. "Aubrey! Are you serious? But… how? He' ll ruin you!"

"He's already tried," I replied. A bitter smile touching my lips. "But he hasn't succeeded. Not yet. I'm taking the job with the Olsen Corporation's European branch. My real family. And I'm going to them with everything."

Jonna stared at me. Then, slowly, a grin spread across her face. A fierce, predatory grin. "My God, Aubrey. You're a genius. A warrior." She squeezed my hand. Hard. "I'm with you. Whatever you need. Whatever it takes."

A wave of profound relief washed over me. Jonna's unwavering loyalty was a lifeline. A beacon in the darkness. Her belief in me was the fuel I needed.

I left Jonna. Feeling a renewed sense of purpose. A cold, hard resolve had settled deep in my core. I went back to the house. To the prison he had built for me. And started to pack the last of my things.

Just as I was about to leave the bedroom, I felt a sharp pain. A sudden jolt. I stumbled. My head hit the door frame. Stars exploded behind my eyes. I sank to the floor. My vision blurred.

Kennedy. She stood there. A wicked smile on her face. A heavy sculpture in her hand. One of the new, minimalist pieces.

"Oops," she cooed. Her voice dripping with fake concern. "So clumsy, Aubrey. Are you alright?"

My head throbbed. Blood trickled down my temple. My vision swam. Kennedy's face, distorted by pain, grinned down at me.

Then, a sudden, horrifying twist. Another figure. A man in a dark suit. He grabbed Kennedy. Shoving her roughly against the wall.

"What the hell was that, Kennedy?!" His voice was low. Furious. It wasn' t Cooper.

"She was trying to hurt me!" Kennedy shrieked. Her voice trembling with fake fear. "She tried to attack me!"

My head was spinning. The man ignored her. He knelt beside me. His face, etched with concern, was a blur.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" he asked. His voice deep. Urgent.

I tried to speak. But only a choked gasp escaped.

Then, I heard Cooper's frantic voice from downstairs. "Kennedy? What's going on up there?"

The man looked up. His eyes, hard and cold, met Kennedy's. She was still pressed against the wall. A look of pure terror on her face.

He pulled out a small device. Spoke rapidly into it. In a language I didn' t understand.

Cooper rushed into the room. His eyes taking in the scene. Me, bleeding on the floor. Kennedy, looking terrified. The strange man.

"What happened?!" Cooper demanded. His eyes fixed on Kennedy. "Are you alright, my love?"

He didn't even look at me. Not once. Not even as I lay there. Bleeding. My heart, what was left of it, solidified into a block of ice. He cared only for her. Always for her.

The man gently helped me to a sitting position. His touch firm but careful. He pulled out a clean handkerchief. Pressed it to my bleeding temple.

The room was a blur of faces. Curious eyes. Whispers. The public. Gathering like vultures. My humiliation was complete.

"I'm fine," I mumbled. My voice weak. "Just clumsy." The words were a bitter lie. But I wouldn' t give him the satisfaction. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

Jonna. My best friend. Pushed through the crowd. Her face a mask of horror. "Aubrey! Oh my god!" She rushed to my side. Her arms wrapping around me. Her presence, a warmth in the desolate cold.

"What happened?" Jonna demanded. Her eyes blazing. She glared at Kennedy. Then at Cooper. "Did she do this?"

I shook my head. A silent denial. Not for Cooper. Not for Kennedy. But for myself. I would not allow them to see my pain. Not anymore.

"I need a doctor," I said. My voice stronger now. "Just… take me to a doctor."

Later, back in my bedroom, after the emergency room visit and a few stitches, I found it. His laptop. Open on the nightstand. He must have forgotten it in the chaos. My fingers, still trembling, hovered over the keyboard. A dark curiosity. A desperate need to know.

I clicked on his email. A recent message. From an unknown sender. The subject line read: "Olsen Heiress - Final Details."

My breath hitched. The screen glowed. Revealing the shocking truth.