Page 84 of This Life of Mine

“Who controls the trust?” I ask.

“David Allister, Cole’s father.”

I briefly shut my eyelids. Lina is probably spending her day off trying to breathe, while her ex-husband’s father circles her life like a fucking vulture. A family bleeding money every day she remains alive.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” I ask.

“I don’t think so,” Reese says. “Honestly, I’m not even sure Cole fully understands the scope of it either. The addendum was intentionally hidden.”

I rub a hand over my jaw, my mind already moving ahead.

“So David commissioned the contract to stop the payouts.”

“Looks like it.”

Five million dollars every five years. Most people would kill for far less. Hell, we’ve investigated contracts over custody disputes worth less than a luxury car. Money just gives evil people cleaner tools.

“What about Cole?” I ask. “Any beneficiary connection?” Keyboard clicks echo through the phone.

“No direct access. No beneficiary designation. So far everything points back to David Allister.”

That tracks with what I’ve seen.

Cole is dangerous, but he’s reckless. Addicted to control in the ugliest way possible. But organized enough to commission a professional contract killing through a hidden network? No.

“Cole isn’t involved,” I say.

Reese pauses. “You sure?”

I think back to the parking lot. The way Cole grabbed Lina. The fury in his eyes when she resisted him. The desperation underneath it.

“Yeah.” I grunt. “He doesn’t want her dead. He wants her back.”

I push away from the counter and casually pace through the house.

“Men like him don’t escalate because they planned murder,” I continue. “They escalate because control is slipping.”

Reese stays quiet, letting me think out loud.

“Every interaction we’ve documented points to coercive control. Isolation. Emotional manipulation. Ownership disguised as love.”

I stop near the window again.

“Fifteen years,” I mutter. “Imagine living under that for fifteen fucking years.”

It scratches at the cage I’ve built around my darker instincts.

“People like Cole strip you down slowly. Decision by decision. Until you stop asking permission to exist.”

Reese exhales. “We’ve seen it before.”

Too many times. Women pulled out of situations so psychologically brutal they apologized while being rescued. Women who defended the men, bruising them because survival taught them peace was safer than resistance.

“She survived him,” I say, adding, “that’s what he can’t stand.”

And maybe that’s why I never miss the exhaustion beneath Lina’s strength. Like she’s still learning she’s allowed to take up space. Like she’s allowed to walk through a door on her own.

Reese breaks the silence first. “So that leaves David Allister.”