Chapter 5 - The Mistress Who Wanted to Survive
Chloe contacted Clara two days later from a public telephone inside a hotel lobby.
“I can’t go home,” Chloe said.
Clara stood in the mansion’s greenhouse, hidden among rows of white orchids.
“Where is home?”
“An apartment Julian pays for.”
“Does he have access?”
“He has keys. Cameras too, I think.”
“Go to the Bellweather Hotel. Ask for Mrs. Hart’s reservation. The desk will give you a room key.”
“Who is Mrs. Hart?”
“A woman who wants you alive.”
Clara contacted Reyes, who placed Chloe inside a protected hotel room under federal observation.
Clara arrived one hour later through the service entrance.
Chloe sat near the window wearing a plain sweater and no makeup. Without the glamour, she looked younger and far more frightened.
“I didn’t know about the medical transport,” Chloe said immediately.
“What did you know?”
“Julian said he was going to divorce you after the shower. He said your family had lied about your identity.”
“My family?”
“He said your father forged records to make you seem connected to the Mercer bloodline.”
Clara sat opposite her.
“I am the Mercer bloodline.”
“I know that now.”
“What did Julian promise you?”
Chloe looked down.
“Marriage. A house in France. Security for the baby.”
“And in exchange?”
“I had to announce that we were together before the trustees. Then his lawyer would present a genetic report claiming your baby belonged to someone else.”
“Whose child were they going to say it was?”
Chloe’s silence answered before her words did.
“Agent Noah Briggs.”
Clara’s face remained calm, but her thoughts accelerated.
Briggs had worked with Clara during the defense contractor investigation seven years earlier. He had visited the Vance mansion twice after her marriage, once for a charity dinner and once after a break-in nearby.
Julian had disliked him immediately.
“They chose someone with a documented connection to me,” Clara said.
“Julian had photographs.”
“What photographs?”
“You and Briggs leaving a federal building together. Eating lunch. Standing outside a hotel.”
“All taken during an investigation.”
“They removed the dates.”
Clara turned toward the observation mirror. Reyes stood behind it, listening.
“Did Julian show you the genetic report?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see the laboratory name?”
Chloe closed her eyes, trying to remember.
“Northstar Diagnostics.”
Reyes entered the room.
“Northstar closed three years ago,” she said.
Chloe startled.
“This is Agent Reyes,” Clara explained.
“I thought the room was private.”
“It is private from Julian.”
Reyes placed a recorder on the table.
“Chloe, we need everything you know about the baby shower.”
Chloe rubbed her hands together.
“There’s supposed to be a family vote at two ten. Julian said the trustees would sign temporary control to him because Arthur is stepping down.”
“Is Arthur stepping down?” Reyes asked.
“I don’t know. Julian said his father would have no choice.”
“What does that mean?”
Chloe swallowed.
“He has recordings.”
“Of Arthur?”
“And Beatrice. They were arguing about someone named Helena. Beatrice said Arthur should have made sure she was on the ferry.”
Clara felt the words like cold water.
“Did Julian record that conversation?”
“He records everyone.”
“Where are the files?”
“On a private server.”
“Location?”
“I don’t know.”
Clara leaned forward.
“You wrote that Julian changed my tests.”
“I found copies in his apartment. He told me they proved you had been unfaithful. But the dates were wrong. One test was signed before the sample was supposedly collected.”
“Why warn me?”
Chloe placed both hands over her stomach.
“Because yesterday he gave me a new agreement.”
She removed folded pages from her bag.
The agreement transferred custody of Chloe’s unborn child to a Vance-controlled trust if Chloe became medically incapacitated, disappeared, or was considered unsuitable.
“He said it was standard protection,” Chloe whispered. “Then I saw the same medical transport company listed in the footer.”
Reyes took the pages.
“Julian planned to remove both of you,” Clara said.
Chloe began to cry silently.
“I thought he loved me.”
Clara understood the humiliation of realizing affection had been used as a tool.
“He loves possession,” she said. “That is not the same thing.”
Reyes looked at Clara.
“We have enough to act now.”
“Enough to arrest Julian for falsifying medical records and attempting fraud,” Clara replied. “Not enough to uncover Marianne or the full trust network.”
“Keeping the operation open increases your risk.”
“The shower is in nine days.”
“Clara, you are not bait.”
“No. I’m the person they built the trap around.”
That evening, Clara returned to the mansion and found Julian waiting in their bedroom.
He held her secure phone.
For one terrible second, Clara believed everything had ended.
Then she noticed the device was not hers.
It was an identical phone, placed in her handbag by Reyes for exactly this possibility.
Julian lifted it.
“Why are you carrying an unregistered phone?”
Clara looked confused.
“That isn’t mine.”
“It was in your bag.”
“Then someone put it there.”
Julian studied her face.
“Who have you been speaking to?”
“My obstetrician. The florist. Your mother, unfortunately.”
He stepped closer.
“Where were you today?”
“At prenatal yoga.”
“I called the studio.”
“I left early.”
“Why?”
“Because your son was pressing on my bladder.”
Julian’s expression changed at the word son.
“You still believe it’s a boy?”
“The doctor said so.”
“The doctor has been wrong before.”
Clara tilted her head.
“What do you mean?”
Julian smiled, but the smile came late.
“Nothing.”
He placed the false phone on the dresser.
“I’m worried about you. You’ve seemed confused lately.”
There it was.
The first step in the plan to have her declared unstable.
Clara lowered her eyes.
“Perhaps I’m more tired than I realized.”
Julian relaxed.
“Let me handle the shower.”
“I think that’s best.”
He touched her cheek.
“You know I only want to protect our family.”
Clara forced herself not to move away.
After Julian left, she examined the false phone.
A tracking program had been installed within the last hour.
Clara carried it downstairs and hid it inside the lining of Arthur’s leather briefcase.
At midnight, the tracker began moving.
May you like
Not toward Vance Holdings.
Toward a private airfield outside the city.
