Chapter 2
I read the message twice.
Then a third time.
Vanessa is the reason Adrian tried to kill me.
My cheek stopped hurting.
Everything inside me became cold.
Vanessa noticed my stare.
“What?”
Adrian reached for my phone.
Caleb stepped between us instantly.
“Don’t.”
Adrian stared at him.
“Move.”
Caleb did not blink.
“You just assaulted my sister in a room full of witnesses.”
The word sister rippled through the crowd.
Adrian looked around.
People were whispering openly now.
Marcus took off his glasses.
That small movement made my stomach tighten.
My oldest brother only did that when he was furious.
“Elena,” he said softly.
“Do you want to leave?”
I looked toward Adrian.
For eight years, he had decided when dinners ended.
When arguments ended.
When conversations ended.
Not tonight.
“No.”
Marcus nodded.
“Then we stay.”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“This is ridiculous.”
Julian’s eyes sharpened.
“You hit our sister.”
“You don’t know what happened.”
“I watched it happen.”
“She provoked me.”
The guests reacted immediately.
Someone near the bar muttered, “Jesus.”
Adrian heard.
His face flushed.
Vanessa touched his arm.
“Adrian, we should go.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
She froze.
“You wanted attention tonight.”
I stepped toward her.
“You have it.”
“Elena—”
“Who is Naomi Whitmore?”
Her face changed.
Barely.
But I saw it.
Fear.
Adrian saw it too.
“Enough.”
I held up my phone.
“She just messaged me.”
Vanessa’s lips parted.
Adrian looked as if the floor had disappeared beneath him.
Marcus turned toward me.
“Naomi?”
“His sister.”
Marcus frowned.
“The one who died?”
“She’s alive.”
The ballroom exploded into whispers.
Adrian lunged toward my phone.
Caleb caught his wrist.
Fast.
Controlled.
“Try that again.”
Adrian stared at him.
“Take your hands off me.”
“Then keep yours to yourself.”
Caleb released him.
Adrian stepped backward.
Vanessa whispered, “This is insane.”
I showed her the phone.
Not the message.
Just Naomi’s name.
Vanessa went white.
“You knew.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“You knew she was alive.”
“No.”
Adrian grabbed Vanessa’s arm.
“Stop talking.”
She stared at him.
That was interesting.
For the first time, Vanessa looked afraid of him too.
Marcus leaned toward me.
“We need to get you somewhere safe.”
Before I could answer, a woman approached from the stage.
Serena Blake.
The survivor whose story Vanessa had stolen.
She had been invited as a guest but had asked not to speak publicly.
I had not realized she heard the confrontation.
Her eyes were filled with tears.
She looked at Vanessa.
“That was my story.”
Vanessa swallowed.
“I can explain.”
“No.”
Serena’s voice shook.
“You described the blue bathroom tile.”
Vanessa said nothing.
“You described the broken lock.”
Still nothing.
“You described what my daughter said while we waited for the police.”
Vanessa looked toward Adrian.
Serena’s expression hardened.
“I only told Elena that.”
Then she looked at me.
“And Adrian.”
My blood went cold.
Adrian knew Serena’s private testimony because I had once shared parts of it with him while creating an emergency grant program.
He had given it to Vanessa.
The realization disgusted me.
“You gave her Serena’s story?”
Adrian rolled his eyes.
“It was useful.”
Serena flinched.
Useful.
Her suffering was useful to him.
Marcus heard it too.
I saw his face harden.
Serena stepped toward Vanessa.
“You stood on that stage pretending my worst night happened to you.”
Vanessa began crying.
Fake or real, I could no longer tell.
“I needed something powerful.”
Serena stared at her.
“You could have told the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That you were sleeping with the married founder of an abuse charity.”
A few guests gasped.
Others turned their phones directly toward Vanessa.
She covered her face.
Adrian snapped.
“Everyone put your phones down!”
Nobody listened.
For perhaps the first time in his adult life, Adrian gave an order and the room ignored him.
I almost smiled.
Then my phone rang.
Naomi.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?”
For a moment, only breathing.
Then a woman spoke.
“Elena?”
Her voice was trembling.
“Yes.”
“Oh, God.”
She started crying.
“I’ve wanted to call you for months.”
I moved away from the crowd.
Marcus stayed beside me.
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“Did Adrian hurt you?”
Silence.
Then, “Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“How?”
“Elena, I can’t explain everything over the phone.”
“Why not?”
“Because he still has people protecting him.”
I looked toward Adrian.
He was arguing quietly with Caleb.
Vanessa stood several feet away, suddenly isolated.
Naomi continued.
“Do you know the leather case in Adrian’s office?”
“Yes.”
“Brown leather. Brass lock?”
“Yes.”
“He never lets anyone touch it.”
“I know.”
“The original financial records are inside.”
“What records?”
“Our father’s company.”
My breath stopped.
Whitmore Holdings had been inherited by Adrian after his father died.
At least, that was what Adrian always said.
Naomi’s voice dropped.
“He stole my half.”
I looked at Marcus.
He was listening.
“How?”
“Forgery.”
My mind immediately began moving.
Signatures.
Trust documents.
Estate records.
Naomi continued.
“When I found out, I threatened to go to the authorities.”
“And then?”
“He arranged the boating accident.”
I gripped the phone.
“Arranged?”
“The boat was supposed to catch fire offshore.”
My stomach turned.
“Were you alone?”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“My fiancé was with me.”
I knew the story.
Adrian had told me Naomi’s fiancé died with her.
I felt sick.
“He didn’t survive,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry.”
“I did.”
“How?”
“A fishing crew found me before dawn.”
“Why didn’t you go home?”
“Because Adrian had already reported me dead.”
I frowned.
“That doesn’t explain—”
“The detective handling the case met me at the hospital.”
My pulse quickened.
“He told me to disappear.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian had already paid him.”
Marcus looked at me sharply.
Naomi continued.
“I was terrified. Injured. My fiancé was dead. I had no idea who to trust.”
“So you vanished.”
“Yes.”
“For nine years?”
“I tried to come back twice.”
“What happened?”
“Both times people started following me.”
I stared at Adrian.
He was watching me now.
He knew exactly what this call meant.
“What does Vanessa have to do with it?”
Naomi became quiet.
“Elena…”
“Tell me.”
“Vanessa’s father worked for Whitmore Holdings.”
I frowned.
“She told me her father was a doctor.”
“He wasn’t.”
“What was he?”
“Our chief financial officer.”
The room seemed to move beneath my feet.
Naomi continued.
“He helped Adrian alter the trust documents.”
I looked at Vanessa.
She had lied about more than an affair.
More than a speech.
“Did Vanessa know?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because her father died six years ago.”
I waited.
“Before he died, he gave her copies of everything.”
My skin went cold.
“So Vanessa has evidence against Adrian.”
“Yes.”
“Then why is she sleeping with him?”
Naomi exhaled shakily.
“Because she’s been blackmailing him.”
I almost laughed from disbelief.
The mistress wasn’t simply a mistress.
She was extorting my husband.
Naomi continued.
“But Adrian changed the game.”
“How?”
“He convinced Vanessa that if she helped him keep me hidden, he would marry her and give her part of the company.”
My eyes went to Vanessa.
She was staring at me now.
She knew Naomi was telling me.
“She helped him track you.”
“Yes.”
“And tonight?”
“She was supposed to get you out of the foundation.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“Adrian needs your signature to move eighty million dollars from the charitable trust.”
I looked toward the ballroom stage.
The foundation.
My foundation too.
“What signature?”
“He plans to dissolve two restricted accounts after the gala.”
My blood ran cold.
“He can’t do that without me.”
“Exactly.”
Naomi’s voice broke.
“He planned to pressure you tonight.”
Pressure.
That was Adrian’s polite word for fear.
I suddenly remembered the folder he had placed in our home office that morning.
“Routine foundation paperwork,” he had called it.
I had not signed.
He had been angry.
Now I understood why.
“Elena, listen carefully.”
“I’m listening.”
“Do not sign anything.”
“I won’t.”
“And get the leather case.”
I looked at Marcus.
He nodded once.
“Where are you, Naomi?”
She hesitated.
Then she said, “I’m ready to come back.”
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
I stared at Adrian.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
I almost told her not to.
Then the ballroom doors opened.
Every head turned.
A woman entered wearing a dark coat.
Thin.
Elegant.
A scar ran from her left temple toward her ear.
Adrian looked at her.
The color drained from his face.
May you like
The phone was still against my ear when Naomi whispered:
“I’m already here.”
