The Doormat Wife’s Ultimate Glow-Up novel Chapter 417

“The box!” Nathaniel’s voice was sharp and cold. “Didn’t you say Hank took it and handed it over to Reese? Then why are all these files fake?”

Sofia’s eyes widened. The color vanished from her cheeks. “Actually… Hank never got the box,” she admitted, barely above a whisper. “Douglas told me Hank tried to get it from the old house last night, but Bailey caught him. He didn’t get it. Bailey moved the box somewhere else.”

Nathaniel let go of her so suddenly that Sofia stumbled back, dropped onto the couch, and started sobbing. She just wanted Nathaniel to blame Reese. She never thought her lie would fall apart so fast.

Nathaniel stood there, looking like he could explode at any second. If he had known the truth, he wouldn’t have rushed to go after Matthew. He wouldn’t be stuck here now, desperate and on the run.

“You idiot,” he spat. “You ruined everything! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

He could hardly believe it. His own daughter’s lie had wrecked his plans. Not only did he lose his chance at the real evidence, he’d exposed himself and now the police were after him. Rage made his whole body shake. He almost wanted to shut Sofia up for good. But then he saw her face, so much like Grace’s, and remembered she was his only daughter. He couldn’t do it. His hand fell uselessly to his side.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. The sound shattered the heavy silence in the room.

Sofia’s cries died in her throat. She went pale, her eyes wide with fear. The police. It had to be the police.

She shot Nathaniel a frantic look, her lips trembling. “It’s the police. Hide under the bed, now.” She hurried to the guest room, yanking up the bed skirt.

Nathaniel took a deep breath. This wasn’t the time to argue. He grabbed the papers on the table and squeezed himself under the bed.

Sofia tried to fix her hair and clothes, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She took a shaky breath, then walked to the door and opened it just a crack. She forced a smile. “Hello, officers. Can I help you?”

“Good evening. We’re with the West Side precinct,” one of the officers said, flashing his badge. “Are you Ms. Sofia Meyer?”

Sofia let out a quiet sigh of relief. “If you don’t have a warrant, then please leave.” She gently closed the door and waited until their footsteps faded.

Finally alone, she leaned against the door, breathing hard, her back slick with cold sweat.

Out in the hallway, the officers spoke in low voices.

“There were two used glasses on the coffee table,” one said.

“The doormat was out of place. Someone’s definitely here,” the other replied. They shared a look. “We need to report this. Nathaniel’s almost definitely hiding in Sofia’s apartment.”