Chương 2
Inside my suite, Toby refused to let me put him down until Daniel found a cartoon channel on the television.
I sat him on the bed, removed his loose shoe, and tied it properly.
My hands shook badly enough that I had to start the knot twice.
“Grandpa’s going to look at Mommy’s drive, okay?”
Toby nodded without taking his eyes off the cartoon.
Daniel closed the door.
“What drive?”
I pulled it from my pocket.
His usual sarcasm disappeared.
“Where did you get that?”
“Toby.”
Daniel glanced at him.
“And Toby got it from?”
“Genevieve.”
I opened my laptop.
My phone began vibrating on the desk.
The wedding coordinator.
I silenced it.
It immediately started again.
Daniel turned it facedown.
“Take your time.”
“I have a hundred and twenty people downstairs.”
“They’ve got champagne.”
“That’s your legal advice?”
“It’s my catering advice.”
Despite myself, I gave a short laugh.
It died quickly.
The drive contained seven folders.
Six had ordinary project names from developments my company had completed over the previous three years.
The seventh was labeled simply DAD.
Daniel leaned closer.
“Open it.”
Inside were fourteen files.
Screenshots.
Bank statements.
Two audio recordings.
A scanned contract.
A video file.
And a text document named READ_FIRST.
I clicked it.
Dad, if you are reading this, I either failed to stop the wedding myself or something happened that kept me from getting there.
Please do not confront Evelyn alone.
Please do not call her father.
Please call Sarah and Daniel first.
I know how this sounds, and I know you think I have never given Evelyn a fair chance.
Maybe I haven’t.
That is part of why I waited too long.
I needed proof before I accused the woman you love of something this serious.
The first thing you need to know is that Evelyn Kensington is not the person who approached you two years ago by accident.
I stopped reading.
Daniel’s hand settled on the back of the chair.
“What does that mean?”
I scrolled.
Genevieve had written dates beneath it.
The first was from three months before I met Evelyn at a charity dinner in Chicago.
Attached was a screenshot of an email.
The sender’s name meant nothing to me.
The recipient did.
Evelyn Kensington.
The subject line was THOMAS VANCE BACKGROUND.
I opened the screenshot.
My home address was there.
My company valuation.
My wife Margaret’s obituary.
Genevieve’s name.
Toby’s birth date.
My preferred restaurants.
My golf club.
The foundation where I served on the board.
Even the annual charity dinner where Evelyn had supposedly met me by chance.
Daniel whispered something profane.
I kept scrolling.
Another screenshot showed a payment of eighteen thousand dollars from Evelyn to a private intelligence consultant.
A second payment followed four months later.
Then another.
“What the hell was she investigating?”
“I don’t know.”
My phone vibrated again.
This time Evelyn’s name appeared.
I let it ring.
Daniel pointed at the video file.
“Maybe we start there.”
Before I could click it, someone knocked.
Three soft taps.
Toby slid off the bed and ran behind the chair.
“Thomas?”
Evelyn.
Daniel and I looked at each other.
“Don’t open it,” he said quietly.
Evelyn knocked again.
“Thomas, we need to talk.”
I stared at the laptop.
A thumbnail had appeared beside the video file.
It showed Genevieve standing in what looked like the underground parking garage beneath my office.
The timestamp was from two nights earlier.
Evelyn stood in front of her.
Her hand was raised.
And behind Evelyn, half concealed by a concrete pillar, stood a man I recognized immediately.
My future father-in-law.
Arthur Kensington.
The same man Genevieve’s note had specifically warned me not to call.
Evelyn tried the door handle.
It was locked.
“Thomas, please.”
Daniel pointed toward the laptop.
I clicked the video.
For several seconds, there was no sound except the distant hum of ventilation.
Then Genevieve’s voice came through the speakers.
“You lied to him from the first night.”
Evelyn stepped closer to her.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I have the transfers.”
Evelyn stopped moving.
Behind the pillar, Arthur shifted.
Genevieve held up her phone.
“I have the original agreement too.”
Evelyn’s face changed.
Not much.
Just enough.
“What agreement?”
“The one where your father paid you to get close to mine.”
Outside the suite, Evelyn stopped knocking.
Inside, Daniel slowly turned toward the door.
On the screen, Genevieve took a step backward.
“You were never supposed to marry him,” she said.
“You were supposed to make him trust you long enough to get access to Vance Development.”
Evelyn’s voice came from the hallway, suddenly sharper.
“Thomas, open this door.”
On the video, Arthur Kensington stepped out from behind the pillar.
And my daughter looked straight toward the hidden camera and said, “If anything happens to me, my father gets everything.”
Daniel’s hand moved off the chair and toward his phone.
I caught his wrist before he could pick it up.
“Not yet.”
He stared at me.
“Thomas.”
“Not yet.”
Outside the door, Evelyn knocked once more, then went quiet.
That silence was worse.
On the laptop, the video continued.
Genevieve stood rigid beneath the fluorescent lights of the garage while Arthur took another step toward her.
He was seventy-two, silver-haired, narrow-shouldered, and always dressed as if someone might photograph him leaving church.
I had eaten dinner with him six times.
He had toasted my engagement.
He had shaken my hand and told me Evelyn had never looked happier.
Now he looked nothing like the gracious retired banker I knew.
He looked tired.
Cornered.
“Give me the phone, Genevieve,” he said.
“No.”
“You don’t understand what you found.”
“I understand enough.”
Evelyn moved between them.
“You went through my things.”
“I went through Dad’s company files after I found your name in a vendor authorization you had no business being on.”
“That doesn’t give you the right—”
“The right?”
Genevieve laughed once.
May you like
It was a small, ugly sound.
“You paid someone to study my father before you met him.”
