Chapter 4 — The Mistress Who Wanted More Than a Husband
Chapter 4 — The Mistress Who Wanted More Than a Husband
The photograph remained on my desk long after Daniel left.
I couldn't stop looking at it.
The woman had my mother's face.
The same dark eyes.
The same narrow jaw.
The same small scar above her eyebrow.
A scar I remembered from childhood.
A scar my mother had gotten when I was six years old.
There was no possibility of coincidence.
But my mother had died twenty years ago.
I had attended her funeral.
I had watched the coffin disappear beneath the earth.
I had spent years believing that memory was the final chapter of her life.
Now someone had just placed a photograph in front of me and told me that she had been seen alive six months ago.
And somehow, her name was connected to Andrew.
I picked up the phone.
“Daniel.”
He answered immediately.
“Yes?”
“Come back.”
“I knew you'd say that.”
“Bring everything.”
“Already on my way.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Especially everything connected to Brenda.”
There was a pause.
“Why?”
“Because I think Brenda knows more than she admitted.”
An hour later, Daniel returned with three folders.
The first contained Brenda's financial records.
The second contained her communications with Andrew.
The third contained something I hadn't expected.
A photograph.
Brenda standing beside a man outside a hotel.
I looked at him.
“Victor Hale.”
Daniel nodded.
“Six months before she met Andrew.”
I stared at the picture.
“So she knew him before the affair.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“According to the records, at least eight months.”
“Then the affair wasn't accidental.”
“No.”
I closed the folder.
“Find Brenda.”
“We already did.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“She hasn't left the city.”
“Where is she?”
Daniel placed an address on the desk.
“An apartment downtown.”
I stood.
“Take me there.”
Brenda opened the door herself.
The moment she saw me, her expression changed.
She looked frightened.
Good.
I walked inside.
She stepped backward.
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
“I told you everything.”
“No.”
I held up the photograph of her with Victor.
“You told me what you wanted me to know.”
Her face went pale.
“Where did you get that?”
“Does it matter?”
She stared at the photograph.
Then sat down.
I remained standing.
“Why did Victor pay you?”
She didn't answer.
“Why did you meet him before you met Andrew?”
Silence.
“Why did you transfer eleven million dollars from Andrew's company?”
Brenda looked up.
“I didn't steal it.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I moved it.”
“For Victor?”
She looked away.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I didn't have a choice.”
I almost laughed.
“Everyone says that when they get caught.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
She looked at me.
“Victor threatened me.”
“With what?”
“My brother.”
I stopped.
“Your brother?”
“He has been in prison for three years.”
“What does Victor have to do with him?”
“He controlled his legal appeals.”
I stared at her.
“He promised to get him out.”
“And in exchange?”
Brenda swallowed.
“I had to get close to Andrew.”
I sat across from her.
“So the affair was planned.”
“Yes.”
“When did you first meet Andrew?”
“Four years ago.”
I frowned.
“That was before our wedding.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you approach him then?”
“Because Victor told me to wait.”
“For what?”
“Until Andrew became vulnerable.”
I stared at her.
“And when did that happen?”
“Two years into your marriage.”
My chest tightened.
“What happened?”
“Andrew started having financial problems.”
I said nothing.
Brenda continued.
“His company was losing money.”
“I know.”
“Victor wanted access to his accounts.”
“And you gave it to him.”
“Yes.”
“Then why stay with Andrew?”
Brenda's eyes filled with tears.
“Because by then, I actually loved him.”
I stared at her.
I didn't know whether to believe her.
Perhaps she had loved him.
Perhaps she hadn't.
But there was something in her expression that looked painfully real.
“What did Victor want?”
She shook her head.
“Not Andrew.”
My heart stopped.
“Then who?”
“You.”
I remained still.
“Why me?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“Brenda, my husband ruined his life for you.”
“He didn't.”
“You helped him betray me.”
“Yes.”
“You stole from him.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to his family.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you suddenly protecting me?”
She looked at me.
“Because I finally realized what Victor wanted.”
“What?”
She whispered:
“He wasn't trying to destroy Andrew.”
“He was trying to get to your family.”
I stood.
“Explain.”
Brenda shook her head.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because if I tell you, they'll kill me.”
“Who?”
“Victor.”
I walked toward the door.
“Then you have nothing more to say.”
“Wait.”
I stopped.
Brenda's voice trembled.
“I know where the necklace is.”
I turned.
“What necklace?”
She stared at me.
“The emerald necklace Margaret accused you of stealing.”
My heart began pounding.
“Where?”
“I gave it to Victor.”
I froze.
“You what?”
“He wanted the device hidden inside it.”
“What device?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why did you give it to him?”
“Because he said it contained something that belonged to your mother.”
My blood went cold.
“My mother?”
Brenda nodded.
“He told me your mother was alive.”
I stared at her.
“You knew?”
“I didn't believe him.”
“But you gave him the necklace.”
“Yes.”
“Where is it now?”
She whispered:
“His private vault.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
I grabbed my coat.
“Then find out.”
She stared at me.
“How?”
“You've been working for him for two years.”
“I don't have access anymore.”
“Then get it.”
She looked terrified.
“You're asking me to go against Victor.”
“Yes.”
“He'll kill me.”
I looked directly into her eyes.
“Then help me make sure he doesn't get the chance.”
That evening, I returned to headquarters.
Daniel was waiting.
“I heard.”
“About Brenda?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
I told him everything.
When I mentioned my mother, his expression changed.
“Mariana…”
“I know.”
He looked down.
“There is something we need to discuss.”
“What?”
“Your mother's death certificate.”
I frowned.
“What about it?”
“We reviewed the original.”
“And?”
“The signature is wrong.”
I froze.
“What?”
“The physician's signature.”
Daniel handed me the document.
I stared.
The handwriting looked unfamiliar.
“How did I never notice?”
“You were seventeen.”
“I was there.”
“You were grieving.”
I looked at him.
“What are you saying?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“I think your mother may not have died when we were told she did.”
My heart pounded.
“Then whose funeral did I attend?”
“We don't know.”
I sat down.
Everything I had believed about my childhood suddenly felt unstable.
My mother.
Andrew.
Brenda.
Victor.
The necklace.
The offshore account.
They were all connected.
And I had no idea how deep the connection went.
At 11:30 p.m., Daniel received a call.
He answered.
Then his face changed.
“What?”
I looked at him.
He listened.
“Where?”
A pause.
“Keep her there.”
He hung up.
“What happened?”
“We found Brenda's brother.”
“Where?”
“Federal detention.”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did Brenda say Victor controlled his release?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Because he doesn't.”
I frowned.
“Then who does?”
He placed another file on the table.
“Your mother.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“We don't know.”
He opened the file.
Inside was a prison visitor log.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Elena Escalante.
My mother's name.
My hands began to tremble.
Dates.
Six months ago.
Five months ago.
Three months ago.
Two weeks ago.
Someone had been visiting Brenda's brother using my mother's identity.
And then I noticed the most recent entry.
Yesterday.
I looked at Daniel.
“My mother visited him yesterday.”
He nodded.
“According to this record.”
“But my mother is dead.”
“I know.”
The next morning, we brought Brenda to headquarters.
She looked exhausted.
I placed the visitor log in front of her.
“Do you know this name?”
She stared.
Then her eyes filled with fear.
“Yes.”
“Who is she?”
Brenda whispered:
“Your mother.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Brenda.”
“I swear.”
“You've been working for Victor for two years.”
“Yes.”
“You must know something.”
She shook her head.
“I never met her.”
“But you knew she existed.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Victor told me.”
“What did he say?”
Brenda looked at me.
“He said your mother had been waiting twenty years for you to come back to her.”
My throat tightened.
“Come back from where?”
Brenda didn't answer.
“Where?”
She closed her eyes.
“From the Escalante family.”
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I swear to God, Mariana, I don't know.”
Then she said something that changed everything.
“Victor wasn't the person giving the orders.”
I froze.
“Who was?”
Brenda's lips trembled.
“I don't know her name.”
“Then what do you know?”
“She sent letters.”
“To whom?”
“To Andrew.”
My heart stopped.
“How many?”
“Dozens.”
“What did they say?”
Brenda shook her head.
“I only saw one.”
“What did it say?”
She looked directly at me.
“It said…”
Her voice broke.
“Keep Mariana away from the truth about her mother.”
I couldn't breathe.
Andrew had received letters.
From someone connected to my mother.
For years.
And he had never told me.
I left the interrogation room and walked straight into Daniel's office.
“Search everything.”
“What?”
“Andrew's house.”
“We already did.”
“Not enough.”
I looked at him.
“I want every piece of paper.”
“Every email.”
“Every handwritten note.”
“Every hidden storage device.”
“Everything.”
Daniel nodded.
“We'll search again.”
I stopped him.
“And find the necklace.”
“Yes.”
“Before Victor moves it.”
That night, Andrew called.
I stared at the screen.
I almost ignored him.
Then I answered.
“Hello?”
His voice was quiet.
“Mariana.”
“What do you want?”
“I need to tell you something.”
“You've had four years.”
“I know.”
“What now?”
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
I closed my eyes.
“Then why did you?”
“I was weak.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No.”
He paused.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Your family.”
I said nothing.
Andrew continued.
“I knew you were wealthy.”
“How much did you know?”
“Enough to know you could destroy me.”
“So you tried to destroy me first.”
“No.”
“You planned to steal from me.”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“But not because I hated you.”
“Then why?”
“Because Victor told me your family was hiding something.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He said your mother wasn't dead.”
I gripped the phone.
“What else did he tell you?”
“That she left something for you.”
“What?”
“I don't know.”
“Andrew.”
“I swear.”
“Then why did you help him?”
He was silent.
Finally, he whispered:
“Because he showed me a photograph.”
“What photograph?”
“Your mother.”
My heart stopped.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
I stared at the darkness outside my window.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Andrew.”
“I don't know.”
He began crying.
“I thought if I helped Victor, he'd tell me where she was.”
I closed my eyes.
“You betrayed me for a ghost.”
“No.”
He whispered:
“I betrayed you because I was afraid of the truth.”
I ended the call.
The next morning, Daniel arrived with the results of the second mansion search.
“We found something.”
He placed a small envelope on my desk.
“Where?”
“Behind a false panel in Andrew's study.”
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My mother.
Standing beside Andrew.
My hands went numb.
The photograph was dated three years ago.
On the back, someone had written:
She knows everything.
I stared at my mother's face.
Then I noticed the woman standing beside her.
Brenda.
And behind them—
Victor Hale.
Three people.
One secret.
And suddenly I understood something.
Brenda had never been the real enemy.
Andrew hadn't been the mastermind.
Even Victor might not have been.
They were all pieces.
Pieces of a game that had started long before I married Andrew.
A game involving my mother.
A game involving my fortune.
And perhaps—
me.
I turned the photograph over again.
There was one final line written beneath the date.
When Mariana learns the truth, take everything she owns.
I slowly lowered the photograph.
For four years, I had believed Andrew's mistress wanted my husband.
I had been wrong.
She wanted much more than a husband.
She wanted access to me.
My money.
May you like
My family.
And whatever secret my mother had spent twenty years trying to hide.
