A decadent summer thriller about marriages tainted by ambition, wealth, and desire from the Sunday Times bestselling author.
She’s in too deep….
Meet the first Mrs Ford. Beautiful. Accomplished. Wealthy beyond imagination. Married to a much younger man. And now… dead.
Meet the second Mrs Ford. Waitress. Small-town girl. Married to a man she never forgot, from an affair ten years before. And now, she’s wealthy beyond imagination.
But who is Connor Ford? Two wives loved him, and knew him as only wives can…
Who is the victim? Who is the villain? And who will be next to die?
Set amongst the glittering mansions of the Hamptons, The Wife Who Knew Too Much is a decadent thriller about the lives of those who will do anything for love and money from the Sunday Times bestselling author Michele Campbell.
Praise for The Wife Who Knew Too Much:
‘Gripping’ and ‘Twisty’ Crime Monthly
‘Taut, unpredictable and sensual, Campbell's writing provides the perfect escape’ Newsweek
‘This page-turner is poolside ready’ Publisher's Weekly
‘Cleverly revealed subterfuge and a genuine aura of danger and confusion make this a fast and exciting read for fans of Liv Constantine’ Booklist
‘A fantastic poolside or at-the-beach read, but just as perfect curled up in a chair inside, escaping from the summer heat, The Wife Who Knew Too Much will have your fingers busy turning page, after page, after page’ The Nerd Daily
‘Campbell has crafted a practically perfect thriller with plenty of twists and turns that still relies on the believable to drive its thrills home’ Bookreporter.com
‘I will read anything Michele Campbell writes! Her stories are shocking and suspenseful. No one is superhuman ― just human ― and that resonates with me’ Rachel Howzell Hall, bestselling author of They All Fall Down
Release date:
July 28, 2020
Publisher:
St. Martin's Publishing Group
Print pages:
352
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I’m writing this to raise an alarm in the event of my untimely death. This is hard to admit, even to myself, let alone to the world. My husband is planning to kill me. For obvious reasons. He’s in love with someone else. And he wants my money.
I’m sitting in my office in the tower room at Windswept as I write. I look out over the ocean. The waves pound the beach as dark clouds sweep in from the east. A storm is coming. This house belonged to my first husband, Edward. On the day we met, I was twenty-three, working in an art gallery, barely scraping by. Edward was fifty and one of the wealthiest men in New York. People said I was a gold-digger. But they were wrong. Edward might not have been the perfect husband, but I loved him. When he got sick, I nursed him. When he died, I grieved him. A year later, I met someone else and fell in love. And I married again.
That was Connor, my second husband. On the night we met, he was thirty. I was fifty and one of the wealthiest women in New York. Connor didn’t have a penny. People took that to mean he could only be after my money. I didn’t see it that way. People had been wrong about me. I assumed they were wrong about him, too.
But they were right.
I just finished meeting with the private investigator, and I’m writing this with tears in my eyes. A photograph sits before me on the desk, incontrovertible proof that the two of them are together—and have been for a very long time. I don’t know how far it goes, or what they’re capable of, but I fear the worst. As Connor well knows, we have an airtight prenup. The prenup says he gets nothing if he cheats. I can divorce him and throw him out on the street. Everything I gave him—the cars, the clothes, the expensive watches, that boat he loves so much, the jet—I can take away. And I will. He knows I will. How far would he go to prevent that from happening? I hope I’m being alarmist, but I fear he’d go to extremes.
I’d throw him out right this minute, but I’m expecting three hundred guests. I’ll be holding my annual Fourth of July gala tonight, here at Windswept. It was at that very same party two years ago that I first saw Connor. Infatuation at first sight. I should have slept with him and left it at that, but I’m too much of a romantic. Or just a fool. Well, I won’t be foolish tonight. I’ll be extremely careful. As soon as my guests leave, as the fireworks fade from the sky over the ocean, I’ll confront him. I’ll tell him it’s over and kick him off my property. I won’t do it alone. I’ll take precautions. I’ll have security with me, because I fear what Connor might do if he knows he’s about to lose everything. I’ll be careful. I’ll do it cleanly, quickly. And this marriage will be done.
It’s going to be so hard, though. I still love him. I love him so much that I have to fight the urge to give him another chance. To ask him to explain the things the investigator found. I can’t do that. It would be a terrible mistake. It could even put my life at risk. I don’t trust myself with him. That’s why I’m leaving this diary where it’s sure to be found. If something goes wrong, I want an autopsy. If I die unexpectedly, it was foul play, and Connor was behind it. Connor—and her.
2
SOUTHAMPTON, New York, July 5—Noted businesswoman and philanthropist Nina Levitt was found dead early this morning. She was 52.
Mrs. Levitt was discovered unresponsive, floating in the swimming pool at Windswept, her mansion in Southampton, where she had just thrown a lavish party attended by hundreds of guests. She was rushed by ambulance to Stony Brook Southampton Hospital, where she was pronounced dead upon arrival. Cause of death is believed to be drowning, to be confirmed by an autopsy, results of which are pending.
Mrs. Levitt was best known as the widow of real-estate tycoon Edward M. Levitt, the founder of Levitt Global Enterprises, Inc., which maintains offices in New York, Hong Kong, and Dubai. Mrs. Levitt served in various capacities at Levitt Global, including most recently as chairwoman of the board.
During Edward Levitt’s lifetime, the couple were fixtures on the social scene in New York and Southampton. Mrs. Levitt was famous for her lavish parties and fashion sense, and appeared frequently in publications such as Vogue, Town and Country, and Avenue. Her ethereal beauty—she was known for her pale skin and red hair—made her a favorite subject of fashion photographers.
The Levitts’ accomplishments as developers of commercial real estate in the United States and abroad, and as collectors and donors of late-twentieth-century contemporary art, were often overshadowed by scandal. The couple were frequent subjects of tabloid stories concerning Mr. Levitt’s extramarital affairs. In the years since Mr. Levitt’s death, Mrs. Levitt was believed to have found happiness with her second husband, Connor Ford. Mr. Ford is currently an executive at Levitt Global, having enjoyed a meteoric rise within the company since his marriage to Mrs. Levitt.
Mr. Ford did not respond to repeated requests for comment in regard to this story.
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