Chapter 4

Sundance. That party. It all came rushing back.

Isabella was an intern then, bright, ambitious, but also vulnerable.

I' d found her disoriented, two predatory studio executives leering, practically dragging her towards a suite.

I stepped in, got her out of there, took her back to her hotel.

She' d seemed so grateful, so shaken.

She initiated our relationship soon after, a whirlwind romance.

Then she was pregnant with Olivia, and we married.

I thought I' d saved her.

Now, her words echoed: "If Ethan hadn't spiked my drink..."

She believed I drugged her? All these years?

That gratitude, that love, had it all been built on a monstrous lie she' d constructed in her own mind?

And my career, the constant struggles, the projects that fell apart at the last minute, the funding that mysteriously dried up...

Had that been her and Marcus, working together, slowly bleeding me dry?

The realization was a physical blow, knocking the air from me.

My bank accounts were frozen by the time I got back to my apartment building.

"Joint accounts, sir," the bank manager had said over the phone, "Your wife has put a hold on all funds, citing... marital dispute."

Olivia' s hospital bills. I needed cash, emergency cash I kept in a safe at home.

I raced up, my heart pounding, fumbling with the keys.

The door swung open, and my world collapsed.

Isabella stood there, flanked by Marcus Thorne, his arm possessively around her waist.

And behind them, Detectives Rourke and Davies.

"There he is, officers," Isabella said, her voice dripping with false emotion, "He came back to destroy evidence, maybe even flee!"

Marcus smirked, a look of pure triumph on his face.

"You bastard!" I lunged at him, a primal roar tearing from my throat.

Rourke and Davies grabbed me, wrestling me back.

"Ethan, stop!" Isabella cried, feigning fear. "Think of Olivia! Her medical bills need to be paid!"

Then, she stepped forward and slapped me, hard, across the face.

"You just want to silence her, don't you? You monster!"

She turned to the detectives. "Check his home office, it' s full of Olivia' s things, her equipment, his dark scripts. He was obsessed, it was unnatural."

Neighbors peered out from their doorways, drawn by the commotion.

Isabella played to them, tears welling in her eyes.

"He' s a monster, he hurt my little girl."

Their faces hardened, condemning me.

Marcus then added, his voice smooth and concerned, "I even saw him... acting inappropriately with Olivia once, at a screening. I didn't want to believe it then."

More lies, piling up, burying me.

They were painting me as a pervert, a violent abuser.

And Isabella, my wife, was holding the brush.