Chapter 10 — The Other Woman’s Secret
Chapter 10 — The Other Woman’s Secret
Vanessa did not come to the hospital to apologize.
She came because someone was trying to kill her.
I knew that before she said a word.
It was written across her face.
The woman who had once walked into my NICU wearing my maternity coat no longer looked smug.
She looked hunted.
At 6:12 the next morning, Marcus found her sitting alone in the hospital chapel.
She had no coat.
No handbag.
No security.
Only a phone clutched between both hands.
When I entered, she looked up.
“Emma.”
I stopped several feet away.
“What happened?”
She laughed nervously.
“You're still asking me that?”
“I don't have time for games.”
“Neither do I.”
She stood.
“I need your help.”
I almost turned around.
“Why should I help you?”
“Because they will come after your children next.”
I froze.
“Who?”
Vanessa looked toward the chapel doors.
“Richard.”
My stomach tightened.
“You said Richard wanted the trust.”
“He does.”
“You also said your mother was investigating him.”
“She was.”
“Then why did you work with him?”
Vanessa looked down.
“Because I thought I had no choice.”
I stared at her.
“Everyone says that after they betray someone.”
“I know.”
She swallowed.
“But I wasn't sent to destroy you.”
“Then why were you sent?”
“To get close to Grant.”
My jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You don't.”
Vanessa reached into her pocket.
She pulled out a small memory card.
“I recorded everything.”
I stared at it.
“Everything?”
“Almost.”
“Why?”
“Because I stopped trusting Grant.”
“When?”
“The night he signed the divorce papers.”
I frowned.
“Why then?”
“Because he smiled.”
I didn't understand.
“He smiled?”
“Yes.”
She sat down.
“He wasn't sad.”
“Why would he be?”
“He had just abandoned his wife and two premature babies.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“And he looked relieved.”
I remembered that morning.
His calm voice.
His expensive suit.
The way he had looked at Noah and Elise.
He hadn't been angry.
He had been satisfied.
Vanessa whispered:
“That was when I realized I had married the wrong man.”
“You didn't marry him.”
She looked at me.
“Not legally.”
“But you wanted to.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard promised me something.”
“What?”
“My mother's life.”
I stared.
Vanessa told me everything.
Her mother, Claire, had disappeared when Vanessa was nine.
Vanessa had spent most of her childhood believing she was dead.
At twenty-six, she received an anonymous letter.
It contained one photograph.
Claire.
Alive.
And one sentence:
If you want your mother back, find Grant Caldwell.
“I thought Grant knew where she was.”
“He did?”
“No.”
“Then why him?”
“Because Richard told me Grant had access to the Aurelia Trust.”
“He didn't.”
“I know that now.”
“What did Richard want?”
“Information.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
“What information?”
“Your identity.”
My stomach tightened.
“He wanted to know whether you were the original beneficiary.”
“And?”
“I was supposed to find out.”
“How?”
“By getting close to Grant.”
I stared at her.
“So you used him.”
“Yes.”
“And he used you.”
“Yes.”
“And Richard used both of you.”
“Yes.”
I shook my head.
“You were all using each other.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“Exactly.”
She handed me the memory card.
“What's on it?”
“Conversations.”
“With whom?”
“Grant.”
“Richard.”
“And one other person.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“Your mother.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“She contacted me.”
“When?”
“Three weeks before the divorce.”
“Why?”
“She wanted to know what Richard had promised me.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth.”
“What did she say?”
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
“She told me my mother was alive.”
I stared.
“She knew?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why tell you?”
“Because she wanted me to stop working for Richard.”
“Did you?”
Vanessa nodded.
“Eventually.”
I inserted the memory card into a secure tablet.
The first file was labeled:
GRANT — 11:42 PM
I pressed play.
Grant's voice filled the room.
“She's still hiding it.”
Richard answered.
“She doesn't know.”
“She must know something.”
“She knows enough to be dangerous.”
“What about the children?”
A pause.
Grant asked:
“What happens if both survive?”
Richard's answer chilled me.
“Then the succession changes.”
“How?”
“The trust recognizes them.”
Grant laughed softly.
“Can we prevent that?”
“Not legally.”
“Then what?”
Silence.
Richard finally said:
“Make sure they never receive the full medical record.”
My blood ran cold.
I stopped the recording.
Vanessa looked at me.
“I didn't know what he meant.”
I stared at the screen.
“Neither did I.”
Then I realized.
The NICU records.
The unauthorized access.
The cloned credentials.
The night Noah and Elise nearly destabilized.
Someone hadn't just been searching their medical records.
Someone had been trying to alter them.
I played the next file.
Grant's voice again.
“What if Emma finds out?”
Richard:
“She won't.”
“And if she does?”
“Then you make her look unstable.”
Grant laughed.
“She already trusts me.”
Richard replied:
“Not anymore.”
I felt my hands shake.
Vanessa looked away.
The next recording contained my mother's voice.
Margaret.
Calm.
Controlled.
“Richard, you don't understand what you're dealing with.”
Richard laughed.
“I understand perfectly.”
“No.”
“You don't.”
“You think the trust is about money.”
“It is.”
“It isn't.”
“What else could it be?”
Margaret answered:
“Children.”
Silence.
Then Richard said:
“Your daughter?”
Margaret:
“My daughter and every child whose name was erased.”
Richard:
“You can't protect them all.”
Margaret:
“I don't have to.”
A pause.
“Emma only needs to survive.”
The recording ended.
I sat motionless.
Vanessa whispered:
“She loved you.”
I didn't answer.
My mother had lied to me for years.
Hidden my identity.
Hidden the trust.
Hidden Claire.
But maybe every lie had been built around one purpose.
Keeping me alive.
The next recording was different.
It was a conversation between Vanessa and Grant.
“You don't love her,” Vanessa said.
Grant laughed.
“Love has nothing to do with this.”
“Then why did you marry her?”
“Because she was the door.”
“To what?”
“The trust.”
Vanessa asked:
“And now?”
Grant answered:
“Now her children are the door.”
I closed my eyes.
Vanessa's voice became quieter.
“What happens to Emma?”
Grant didn't answer immediately.
Then:
“She gets what she deserves.”
“And what's that?”
“Nothing.”
The recording ended.
I removed the card.
Vanessa was crying.
“I am sorry.”
I looked at her.
“I believe you.”
She seemed surprised.
“But forgiveness is different.”
“I know.”
“You still helped him.”
“Yes.”
“You still hurt me.”
“Yes.”
“You still walked into that NICU wearing my coat.”
She lowered her head.
“I know.”
I stood.
“Then you will have to live with that.”
“I will.”
At 8:40 a.m., Marcus entered.
“Grant is here.”
My body went still.
“Already?”
“He came alone.”
“Where?”
“Boardroom.”
I looked at Vanessa.
“Stay here.”
She nodded.
My grandfather appeared in the doorway.
“Don't go alone.”
“I won't.”
Marcus followed me.
The boardroom was silent.
Grant stood at the windows.
He looked exhausted.
When he turned around, his eyes went directly to me.
Then Vanessa.
His face hardened.
“You.”
Vanessa stepped behind me.
“I told her everything.”
Grant's jaw tightened.
“You don't know what you're doing.”
“I know exactly what I'm doing.”
“You betrayed me.”
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“You betrayed everyone first.”
Grant looked at me.
“Emma, listen.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“You don't get to explain.”
“Then what do you want?”
“The truth.”
“I told you the truth.”
“No.”
I placed the tablet on the table.
“You told me what you wanted me to believe.”
I pressed play.
Grant's own voice filled the room.
“Now her children are the door.”
His face went white.
The recording continued.
“She gets what she deserves.”
Silence.
Grant looked at Vanessa.
“You recorded me.”
“Yes.”
He looked back at me.
“Emma—”
“My name is Elena.”
He froze.
I watched the realization spread across his face.
“You found out.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because you spent three years investigating me.”
I stepped closer.
“I spent one night investigating you.”
He looked at the tablet.
“You don't understand.”
“I understand enough.”
“You don't know what Richard is capable of.”
“Neither do you.”
He shook his head.
“He will kill you.”
“Maybe.”
“He will kill the children.”
“Maybe.”
“He will destroy your grandfather.”
“Maybe.”
Grant's voice cracked.
“You need me.”
I almost laughed.
“No.”
He stared at me.
“You need someone who understands how they think.”
“You mean someone who helped them.”
“I can help you.”
“You already did.”
His face tightened.
“How?”
“You showed me exactly who not to trust.”
The doors opened.
My grandfather entered.
Behind him were three attorneys and Marcus.
Grant looked at them.
“What is this?”
My grandfather placed a folder on the table.
“This is the termination of your authority over Caldwell Medical Supply.”
Grant's face changed.
“You can't do that.”
“I can.”
“You don't own the company.”
My grandfather smiled.
“Neither do you.”
Grant stared at the documents.
“That's impossible.”
“No.”
My grandfather turned to me.
“The trust has recognized its primary beneficiary.”
He pushed the folder toward me.
I opened it.
The final page contained one sentence.
CONTROL TRANSFERRED TO ELENA AURELIA GRANT.
Grant whispered:
“No.”
Then the doors opened again.
This time, no one spoke.
A woman entered.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
Calm eyes.
Claire.
Grant stared at her.
“I thought you were dead.”
Claire looked at him.
“You should have investigated better.”
Vanessa began crying.
“Mom.”
Claire walked toward her.
They embraced.
I looked away.
It was too intimate to watch.
Too painful.
When they separated, Claire looked at me.
“I owe you the truth.”
“You owe me more than that.”
“I know.”
She turned toward Grant.
“Richard has moved.”
Grant's face tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“He knows the account is open.”
My grandfather stood.
“How?”
Claire looked at me.
“Because someone accessed it last night.”
I frowned.
“My mother.”
Claire shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
She looked at Grant.
“Someone using Grant's credentials.”
Grant went pale.
“I didn't access anything.”
“I know.”
“Then who did?”
Claire's voice became quiet.
“Someone inside your company.”
I looked at my grandfather.
“Richard?”
“No.”
Claire shook her head.
“Someone closer.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the hospital hallway.
Then whispered:
“The person who has been standing beside Emma since the twins were born.”
I felt a chill.
“Who?”
Claire didn't answer.
Instead, she looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa suddenly understood.
Her face went white.
“No.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
Vanessa stared at the door.
“That's impossible.”
“Who?”
She whispered a name.
“Dr. Martin.”
The neonatologist.
The man caring for Noah and Elise.
My blood ran cold.
“The doctor?”
Vanessa nodded.
“Richard's brother.”
Silence.
I immediately reached for my phone.
Marcus was already moving.
“Lock down the NICU.”
We ran.
But before we reached the corridor, every light in the hospital went out.
The emergency generators failed.
The doors locked.
And from somewhere behind the NICU glass came the sound of an alarm.
One alarm.
Then another.
Then another.
Noah.
Elise.
Both at once.
I ran toward them.
May you like
And in the darkness, I heard someone whisper:
“It's time to finish what Richard started.”
