Chương 7
He arranged everything by height in the cabinets, then noticed what he was doing and closed the door.
His assistant called.
The board had postponed the acquisition vote but scheduled an emergency governance meeting for Monday. Brenda had requested temporary authority to manage company communications, citing Lucas’s “personal crisis and impaired judgment.” Three directors supported her request.
Lucas laughed once.
“What?” his assistant asked.
“Nothing.”
“There’s more.”
“Go ahead.”
“Mrs. Dawson’s counsel says the incident at the residence involved property destruction and threats against guests. They’re asking whether company security resources were misused.”
“Security helped my pregnant wife reach an ambulance.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
His assistant went silent.
Lucas regretted the question.
“Sorry,” he said. “What do you need from me?”
“A statement to the board by tomorrow. Also, the financing bank has asked whether leadership is stable.”
“Leadership is stable.”
“Then we need to show them.”
He looked toward the closed bedroom door.
“What did my mother tell the directors?”
“That Gwen suffered a psychological crisis. That you misinterpreted an attempt to help her. That you destroyed property and ordered guests detained.”
“I didn’t detain anyone.”
“Marcus asked them to remain in the salon until the ambulance arrived.”
“For twelve minutes.”
“I’m telling you the wording being used.”
Lucas lowered his voice.
“Do not circulate any statement about Gwen’s health.”
“I haven’t.”
“Not even internally.”
“All right.”
“And do not take direction from my mother.”
A pause.
“Lucas, the company bylaws give her authority when the chief executive is unavailable.”
“I am not unavailable.”
“You missed two meetings and haven’t answered the bank.”
“My wife was hospitalized.”
“I understand.”
“No. You understand the calendar. That isn’t the same thing.”
He ended the call more sharply than he intended.
Tasha left after an hour. Gwen remained in the bedroom.
Lucas knocked.
“Come in.”
She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands resting on her stomach. A legal pad lay beside her, covered in Tasha’s handwriting.
“Do you want food?”
“No.”
“Tea?”
“No.”
He remained in the doorway.
“Did it help?”
“It gave me choices.”
“Which ones?”
Gwen looked at him until he heard the entitlement in the question.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he said.
“I know.”
He sat on the floor against the opposite wall rather than beside her.
After a minute, she said, “I’m going to make a report.”
Lucas exhaled.
“But not tonight,” she added. “And not with you in the room.”
He nodded.
“My attorney will be there.”
“You found one?”
“Tasha recommended someone.”
“Good.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I’m trying not to sound like anything.”
“That must be exhausting.”
“It is.”
She looked down at the legal pad.
“Lucas, I need to tell you something before you hear it from anyone else.”
His stomach tightened.
“I spoke to a divorce lawyer two weeks ago.”
The apartment’s air conditioner turned on with a low hum.
Lucas did not move.
Gwen continued before he could respond.
“I didn’t file anything. I had one consultation. I wanted to know where I could go before the baby came.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was deciding whether telling you would make it harder to leave.”
“Leave me?”
“Leave the house.”
“You said divorce lawyer.”
“I didn’t know if those were different things anymore.”
Lucas looked at the carpet between them. It was patterned with pale gray squares designed to hide stains.
“Were you going to take the baby?”
“I was going to take myself somewhere safe. The baby comes with me right now.”
He rubbed a hand over his mouth.
Gwen’s eyes filled again.
“I didn’t want to disappear,” she said. “I wanted you to notice before I had to.”
“I noticed things.”
“You explained them.”
He nodded because denying it would have been another explanation.
That night, Lucas slept on the sofa beneath the aggressive lemons. He woke every hour and checked the hall to make sure Gwen’s bedroom door remained open.
At four in the morning, he found her in the kitchen eating dry cereal from a coffee mug.
“You bought the wrong kind,” she said.
“I didn’t know there was a right kind.”
“There isn’t. I just don’t like this one.”
He took a handful from the box.
“It tastes like insulation.”
“Exactly.”
They stood barefoot under the stove light, eating cereal they both disliked.
When Gwen returned to bed, Lucas remained at the counter.
A message had arrived from an unknown number.
This is Maria Alvarez. Mr. Cole asked me to contact you. I am sorry. I cannot talk on the phone. Please do not tell Mrs. Dawson I wrote.
Lucas read it three times.
He typed: Gwen is safe. We need to understand what happened. You will not lose your job because of me.
He erased the final sentence. Maria had already lost her job, and promises from a man who had not known who controlled his own household seemed insulting.
He wrote instead: Gwen is out of the hospital. She has independent counsel. You may speak with her attorney if you are willing. No pressure. Tell me what contact is safe.
Maria answered after twenty minutes.
Email only. New address. I have children.
The next day, Gwen gave a statement to a detective in a small interview room at a police precinct. Her attorney, Simone Ellis, sat beside her. Lucas waited downstairs near a vending machine that sold stale pastries and orange crackers.
The interview lasted almost three hours.
When Gwen emerged, she looked drained but upright.
Simone spoke first.
“The detective will request evidence from the residence and interview witnesses. That does not guarantee an arrest or a charge. Do not contact Brenda or the guests about their testimony.”
Lucas nodded.
“Did they believe her?”
Simone’s expression remained neutral. “Investigations are not belief contests conducted in hallways.”
Gwen rubbed her arms.
May you like
Lucas held out her coat. She took it without letting him place it around her shoulders.
In the car, she leaned her head against the window.
