Chương 5
"Yes."
"And?"
"And I have more questions than answers."
Vivian looked almost relieved.
"Good."
I frowned.
"Good?"
"Questions are safer than conclusions."
I studied her.
"You knew he was investigating my father."
"I suspected."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Her expression remained calm.
"Because you would not have believed me."
The answer annoyed me because it was probably true.
"Did you know about the accident?"
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
"Careful."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
She looked toward the window.
"Because I don't have one."
For the first time, Vivian Thornton sounded uncertain.
And that scared me more than her confidence.
"Someone wanted Ethan silent," she said.
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Who?"
She looked back at me.
"That is the question that could destroy this family."
I waited.
She did not continue.
Instead, she reached into her purse and placed an envelope on the table.
"Ethan found this the night before the accident."
I stared at it.
"What's inside?"
Vivian pushed it toward me.
"I don't know."
That surprised me.
"You don't know?"
"No."
"Then why give it to me?"
Her eyes held mine.
"Because whoever tried to stop Ethan will assume he never finished what he started."
My hand moved toward the envelope.
"And if they realize he did?"
Vivian's voice became quieter.
"Then you are no longer just his wife."
I looked at the envelope.
"What am I?"
She answered without hesitation.
"The last person they expected to be standing beside him."
I opened the envelope after Vivian left.
I expected documents.
Numbers.
Names.
Something cold and logical that could explain why my life had been turned upside down.
Instead, I found a single handwritten letter.
The paper was old.
Not damaged.
Just handled often.
At the top was a date from three days before Ethan's accident.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
It was Ethan's.
My hands became unsteady as I unfolded it.
The first sentence made my chest tighten.
"I don't know if I am wrong about this, but if something happens to me, someone needs to know where I was looking."
I stopped reading.
The words felt heavier than they should have.
Not because they were dramatic.
Because they sounded like something a person wrote when they had already accepted that nobody might believe them.
I continued.
"Claire Bennett is not the person I am investigating."
I stared at the page.
My name.
Not my father.
Not the company.
Me.
I read faster.
"She is the person being used."
I sat back.
For several seconds, I could not move.
The entire time I had believed I was the victim of a transaction.
A daughter traded by a desperate father.
A woman pushed into a marriage she did not want.
I had never considered that someone else might have pushed me into the middle of something bigger.
The letter continued.
"Her father made mistakes, but I don't believe he understands the full picture.
Someone is moving money through him.
Someone who needs him distracted, desperate, and willing to accept help from the wrong people."
I thought about my father's excuses.
The way he avoided details.
The way he always said he was trying to fix things.
A terrible possibility appeared.
Maybe he had not lied about everything.
Maybe he had only known enough to be dangerous.
The last paragraph was shorter.
"If Claire ever learns the truth, she will need to decide whether she hates the people who trapped her or the people who tried to protect her."
I read that sentence three times.
Then I noticed something at the bottom.
A name.
Not signed.
Just written.
"Daniel."
My father's name.
The room suddenly felt colder.
Ethan found me there almost an hour later.
I had not moved from the chair.
He looked at the letter in my hand.
"You found it."
I nodded.
"You wrote this."
"Yes."
"Why did you write my name?"
He did not answer immediately.
That bothered me.
"Ethan."
He looked at the floor.
"Because I knew if I confronted your father directly, you would get hurt."
I laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I did not know what else to do.
"I got married to a stranger because of this."
"I know."
"No, you don't."
My voice rose.
"You don't know what it felt like standing there knowing everyone was watching me like I was lucky."
He stayed silent.
"I wasn't lucky."
"I know."
"You keep saying that."
His eyes lifted.
"Because I don't know what else to say."
That stopped me.
It was the first time Ethan Thornton looked powerless.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The man who had controlled companies and terrified boardrooms had no answer for a woman standing in front of him asking why her life had been changed without permission.
I looked away.
"I thought you hated me."
His expression changed.
"I never hated you."
"Your family did."
"Some of them still do."
The honesty surprised me.
I folded the letter carefully.
"Why did you marry me?"
The question had been sitting inside me since the chapel.
Not the legal reason.
The real one.
Ethan looked toward the window.
"I don't remember the exact conversation."
"Try."
He closed his eyes.
"I remember meeting you."
My breath caught.
"You do?"
"Pieces."
He rubbed his hand over his forehead.
"You were arguing with your father outside a restaurant."
I stared at him.
"I was?"
"Yes."
"What did we argue about?"
"You told him you were tired of fixing problems you didn't create."
I looked down.
I remembered that night.
The restaurant parking lot.
The rain.
My father asking me to trust him one more time.
I had not known anyone else was there.
"You heard that?"
Ethan nodded.
"I was in the car nearby."
"Why?"
"I was meeting someone about an investment."
I waited.
"Then I heard you."
The room went quiet.
"What did you think?"
He looked almost embarrassed.
"I thought you were angry."
I smiled faintly.
May you like
"I was."
"But you were also scared."
