Chương 4
Grant looked at Maren.
"I need to tell you the truth."
Maren studied him.
"Why now?"
The question seemed simple.
It was not.
Grant looked down at the floor.
"Because I thought I could fix it before you found out."
"Fix what?"
He looked back at her.
"Everything."
A bitter smile crossed her face.
"That is not an answer."
"No."
He nodded slowly.
"It isn't."
For the first time in years, Grant did not try to make himself sound better than he was.
"I knew my mother was using the accounts."
Lucinda immediately stepped forward.
"Careful."
Grant ignored her.
"I knew she was moving money around."
Maren felt a strange numbness spread through her.
The accusation she had suspected for months suddenly became real.
But the pain did not come from Lucinda.
It came from Grant saying he knew.
"How long?"
Grant looked away.
"Almost two years."
Maren stared at him.
Two years.
Two years of dinners.
Two years of vacations.
Two years of waking up beside him.
Two years of believing every apology was followed by change.
"Two years," she repeated.
Her voice was barely audible.
Grant closed his eyes.
"I was trying to gather proof."
"Proof for who?"
He hesitated.
"For you."
Maren laughed softly.
There was no humor in it.
"Grant, I was your wife."
He looked at her.
"You should have told me."
"I know."
"No."
Her voice became firmer.
"You don't get to say that like it fixes something."
The words landed.
Grant accepted them.
That made it harder.
If he had defended himself, she could have been angry.
If he had blamed someone else, she could have walked away.
His regret left her with a more complicated feeling.
Because regret did not erase damage.
It only proved someone finally noticed it.
A notification sounded from Lucinda's phone.
She looked down.
The color drained from her face.
Maren noticed.
"What happened?"
Lucinda locked the screen.
"Nothing."
This time, nobody believed her.
Grant stepped closer.
"What was it?"
Lucinda stared at him.
"You need to stop."
"Mom."
"You have no idea what you are doing."
The fear in her voice was clearer now.
Not anger.
Fear.
Maren looked between them.
Something bigger than the jewelry store was unfolding.
The canceled card had been a symptom.
Not the disease.
Claire approached carefully.
"I'm sorry to interrupt."
All three of them looked at her.
"There is someone asking for Ms. Whitlock."
Maren frowned.
"Who?"
Claire glanced toward the entrance.
"A man who says his name is Victor Hale."
Grant went completely still.
Lucinda closed her eyes.
For a second, nobody spoke.
Maren noticed that both of them recognized the name.
She did not.
"Who is Victor Hale?"
Grant answered quietly.
"The family accountant."
"Your accountant?"
He nodded.
"And the person who sent the message."
Maren looked toward the entrance.
A tall man in his fifties stood near the doorway holding a worn leather folder.
He did not look like someone who belonged in a luxury jewelry store.
His suit was neat but old.
His shoes had visible creases.
He looked like someone who spent more time solving problems than pretending they did not exist.
When he saw Grant, disappointment crossed his face.
Not surprise.
Disappointment.
That detail bothered Maren.
Because it meant Victor had expected this moment.
Victor approached slowly.
"Grant."
Grant nodded.
"Victor."
The older man looked at Lucinda.
"Mrs. Bellamy."
Lucinda lifted her chin.
"You shouldn't be here."
Victor glanced at Maren.
"Actually, I should have been here years ago."
The sentence changed the air in the room.
Maren held the document tighter.
"Someone want to tell me what is happening?"
Victor looked at Grant.
Then at Lucinda.
Then back at Maren.
"I can."
Lucinda's expression hardened.
"No."
Victor did not raise his voice.
"I have spent eighteen years keeping your family's financial problems from becoming public."
He opened the leather folder.
"I am finished doing that."
Grant looked stunned.
"Eighteen years?"
Victor nodded.
"And the reason your wife has been carrying the consequences of your family's decisions is because nobody had the courage to stop it."
Maren felt the floor beneath her become strangely unsteady.
She looked at Grant.
He looked like he wanted to speak.
But for once, there was nothing he could say that would make the truth smaller.
Victor placed a second document on the counter.
"This is the original agreement."
Maren looked down.
"What agreement?"
Victor's eyes softened slightly.
"The one your father signed before he died."
Everything inside her went still.
"My father?"
Grant looked at her.
Lucinda looked away.
And suddenly the story Maren had been told about her own life no longer belonged only to her.
The story she had been told about her own life no longer belonged only to her.
Maren looked at the document but did not touch it.
For a moment, she could only hear the quiet sounds of the store around her.
The soft music playing from hidden speakers.
The distant hum of the mall.
The faint clicking of someone walking across the polished floor.
Normal things.
Things that should have felt impossible in a moment like this.
"What does my father have to do with this?" she asked.
Victor did not answer immediately.
He looked older than he had when he entered.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like carrying a secret for too long had changed the way he stood.
"Your father, Daniel Whitlock, created the company that became the foundation of the Bellamy family's wealth."
Maren frowned.
"That's not what I was told."
"I know."
The simple answer bothered her more than denial would have.
"Who told you?"
Victor looked at Lucinda.
Nobody needed to explain.
Maren already knew.
Her entire life had been built around pieces of information selected by other people.
Lucinda crossed her arms.
"Your father was a talented man, but he made mistakes."
Maren turned toward her.
"You never liked him."
Lucinda's expression shifted.
A tiny crack.
A memory.
A feeling she tried to hide.
May you like
"No."
The honesty surprised everyone.
