I Hid In A Bridal Shop And Overheard My Kids Planning To Put Me In A Nursing Home. They Didn’t Realize I Was Recording Every Word. Should I Reveal The Truth At The Altar?
H2: The Ultimatum
Back in my study, I pulled out a large manila envelope and began assembling documents.
First: disinheritance papers, already signed by my attorney. Second: FBI arrest warrants prepared by Special Agent Monica Blake, waiting only for my signal. Third: surveillance photos of Nicholas and Natalie kissing, embracing, planning their escape. Fourth: forensic accounting reports showing every stolen dollar. Fifth: evidence of the brake line sabotage. Sixth: Laura Winters’s sworn testimony identifying Nicholas as Matthew Reed.
Then I wrote a letter. My hand shook as I formed the words.
“Scarlet, by the time you read this, you will know the truth about Nicholas Stone. I am giving you a choice. Cooperate with the FBI, testify against Nicholas, and accept probation, or remain loyal to him and face federal prosecution that could mean 20 years in prison. Choose wisely. Choose for yourself, not for him. I love you always, Dad.”
I sealed everything in the envelope and labeled it for Scarlet Carter, to be opened after arrests.
Kenneth called at 1:30 a.m.
“Chris, it’s confirmed. The Cayman accounts freeze at 8:00 a.m. on the wedding day. The moment Nicholas tries to access them, he’ll get an error message. He’ll be trapped.”
I closed my eyes, feeling grim satisfaction.
“Good. What about the FBI?”
Kenneth’s voice turned cautious.
“That’s why I’m calling. Agent Blake wants to arrest Nicholas immediately. She says he’s too dangerous, too likely to run. She’s pushing hard for Wednesday arrests—four days before the wedding.”
My jaw tightened.
“No. Tell her we stick to the plan. Wedding day. Public exposure.”
“Chris, she’s concerned about your safety. Nicholas has already tried to kill you once. If he gets spooked…”
I interrupted, my voice hard as steel.
“Then we make sure he doesn’t get spooked. Four more days of performance. And then, in front of everyone he’s deceived, Nicholas Stone will finally face justice. Tell Agent Blake that’s non-negotiable.”
Kenneth was silent for a long moment.
“All right. But you’re taking a hell of a risk.”
I looked at the envelope containing my daughter’s future.
“I’m taking the only risk that might save her.”
H2: The FBI Briefing
Special Agent Monica Blake spread crime scene photos across the conference table and said,
“Mr. Carter, Nicholas Stone is a professional criminal. We’ve connected him to three other fraud cases, two attempted murders, and one suspicious death.”
The FBI field office conference room was sterile and cold, fluorescent lights humming overhead. Monica Blake sat across from me, flanked by two other agents. Kenneth Walsh sat to my right, his expression grave. We had been summoned after my insistence on waiting for the wedding day arrests reached the Bureau’s attention. Agent Blake wanted to change my mind.
She was in her early 40s, sharp-eyed and no-nonsense, with the bearing of someone who had seen humanity’s worst. She tapped one of the photos.
“This is what we’re dealing with. Not some opportunistic thief, but a predator who has perfected his craft for over a decade.”
I forced myself to look at the photos: crime scenes, court documents, mug shots of Nicholas under different names. Each image was a hammer blow to whatever remained of my paternal illusions.
Agent Blake pulled out a file folder.
“Federal charges we’re prepared to file: wire fraud, money laundering, conspiracy to commit murder, identity theft, interstate transportation of stolen property. If convicted on all counts, Nicholas Stone is looking at 20 to 30 years in federal prison. Possibly more.”
Kenneth leaned forward.
“What about the other cases you mentioned?”
Blake opened another folder.
“2015. Seattle, Washington. Nicholas, using the name David Sterling, targeted a wealthy widow named Margaret Chen. Over six months, he convinced her to invest $800,000 in fake real estate development. When she started asking questions, she died in a fall down her basement stairs.”
My stomach turned.
“You think he killed her?”
Blake’s expression was carefully neutral.
“Local police ruled it accidental. But Mrs. Chen’s daughter insisted her mother was terrified of basements, never went down there alone. The medical examiner noted bruising inconsistent with a simple fall. No charges were filed—insufficient evidence—but David Sterling disappeared the day after her funeral, and the $800,000 was never recovered.”
She pulled out another file.
“Divy Tuktoshi. Aston Padsmith. Denver, Colorado. Nicholas operated as James Carrington, befriending businessman Robert Pollson. Same pattern: gained trust, manipulated finances, embezzled $1.2 million. When Pollson discovered the theft and threatened prosecution, his car’s brake lines failed on a mountain road.”
I gripped the edge of the table. Like mine.
Blake nodded.
“Exactly like yours. Pollson survived but suffered severe injuries. He couldn’t identify who tampered with his vehicle. James Carrington vanished before police could question him. We didn’t connect these cases until Kenneth brought us your evidence.”
Another agent spoke up, younger, with a tablet.
“We’ve identified possible victims in Phoenix, Atlanta, and Miami. We’re still gathering evidence, but the pattern is consistent. Nicholas targets wealthy individuals, often recently bereaved, establishes relationships, steals systematically, then disappears. When victims get too close to truth, he escalates to violence.”
The scope was staggering. Nicholas wasn’t just a con man; he was a serial predator operating across the country for years. And I had welcomed him into my home at age 15, given him my name, raised him as my son.
Blake leaned back, studying me.
“Mr. Carter, this is why we want to arrest him immediately. Nicholas Stone is dangerous. The longer we wait, the higher the risk he’ll sense the trap and either flee or do something desperate.”
I met her gaze steadily.
“Agent Blake, I understand your concern. But my daughter is also facing charges. If we arrest Nicholas now, she’ll believe he’s the victim, that I destroyed her happiness. She’ll defend him, possibly perjure herself trying to protect him.”
Blake’s expression softened slightly.
“I sympathize. But we can’t risk…”
I interrupted, my voice firm.
“We expose him at the wedding. With 300 witnesses. With Laura Winters testifying. With photographic evidence of his affair with Natalie Pierce. Scarlet will have no choice but to face reality. That’s her only chance at redemption.”
Kenneth added his support.
“Monica, we have round-the-clock surveillance on Nicholas. If he makes any move to flee, we execute arrests immediately. But Chris is right. This public exposure is Scarlet’s best chance to cooperate rather than obstruct.”
Blake exchanged glances with her colleagues, then sighed.
“All right. We’ll wait. But the moment Nicholas shows signs of running, we move.”
“Agreed?”
I nodded. “Agreed.”
She pulled out official paperwork.
“Arrest warrants are signed and ready for Nicholas Stone, Natalie Pierce, and Dr. Gordon Price. Execution is scheduled for Saturday, 12:05 p.m., at Saint Catherine’s Church, immediately following your interruption of the ceremony. We’ll have agents positioned throughout the venue, plain clothes. You’ll give a signal, and we move in.”
The weight of what I was orchestrating settled over me. In four days, I would destroy my son in the most public way imaginable. But it was the only way to save my daughter.
Blake’s voice turned grave.
“Mr. Carter, understand this. Nicholas has killed before, or come very close. If he feels cornered before Saturday, he becomes extremely dangerous. Watch yourself.”
