Chapter 10 - Face to FaceThe meeting took place the next morning in a secure interview room downtown.
Julian hated every second of it.
Clara sat across from Victoria with Detective Marrow beside her, Julian behind the glass, and a recorder on the table. Clara had insisted he not sit in the room. Not because she did not want him there, but because she needed Victoria to understand something.
Clara was no longer someone’s hidden wife.
She had come as herself.
Victoria entered wearing the same clothes from the previous day, though they no longer looked elegant. Her hair was pinned neatly, but fatigue had begun to show around her eyes. Without the mansion, without the staircase, without servants lowering their heads, she looked smaller.
Still dangerous.
But smaller.
She sat down slowly.
“Well,” Victoria said. “You found shoes.”
Clara did not answer.
Victoria glanced at the detective.
“I was promised a conversation.”
“You were promised nothing,” Marrow said. “You requested one.”
Victoria looked back at Clara.
“You always needed someone else to speak for you.”
Clara’s voice was quiet. “Not today.”
Something flickered in Victoria’s face.
Annoyance.
Clara folded her hands on the table.
“Where did you plan to take me?”
Victoria smiled faintly. “Straight to the point.”
“The trunk in the garage. The false burial permit. The passport. Where?”
Victoria studied her.
“You think knowing helps?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Victoria said softly. “It feeds the wound.”
Clara leaned forward.
“You don’t get to decide what I can survive.”
Behind the glass, Julian’s throat tightened.
Victoria’s smile disappeared.
For the first time, Clara had landed a blow.
Victoria sighed.
“There is an estate in Maine. No staff. No neighbors. You would have gone there under a new name. Eventually, there would have been an accident.”
Detective Marrow’s jaw tightened.
Clara did not flinch.
“And Emma?”
Victoria looked amused.
“Emma was never supposed to be found.”
“Why take her?”
Victoria’s eyes sharpened.
“Because Julian needed an heir eventually.”
Clara went still.
Victoria continued, voice soft and poisonous.
“I assumed grief would fade. Men like Julian don’t stay lonely forever. I would marry him, produce a perfect story, and later—when needed—introduce a child connected to a private foundation. A tragic little girl. A charitable adoption. Society would weep.”
Clara stared at her.
“You were going to raise my daughter as yours.”
Victoria smiled.
“I would have raised her better.”
The words hung in the air.
Even Detective Marrow looked briefly shaken.
Clara’s hands tightened.
“She is not a handbag you steal because it matches your dress.”
Victoria laughed. “No. She is blood. That is why she mattered.”
Clara’s voice dropped.
“She mattered because she was mine.”
Victoria leaned closer.
“She mattered because she was his.”
There it was.
The truth beneath every act of cruelty.
Victoria had not only wanted Julian’s money.
She had wanted Clara erased from his bloodline.
Clara looked at her for a long moment.
Then she asked the question Julian had asked himself all night.
“Why me?”
Victoria’s face changed.
Not guilt.
Resentment.
“Because you had everything and didn’t even know how to hold it.”
Clara whispered, “You were my friend.”
Victoria’s eyes flashed.
“I was the woman standing beside you while every room turned toward you. Clara Vance, sweet Clara, perfect Clara, the girl old money accepted and new money adored. Julian looked at you like the world ended at your skin.”
Clara’s eyes filled, but she did not look away.
Victoria’s voice hardened.
“I waited years for someone to look at me that way.”
“So you buried me?”
“I replaced you.”
“No,” Clara said.
Victoria blinked.
Clara stood slowly.
“You served tea in my house and called it victory. You wore silk upstairs while I counted scratches in stone. You took my baby because you could not make anyone love you without stealing their life first.”
Victoria’s face twisted.
Clara leaned closer.
“But you did not replace me.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“You studied me for years, and still you never learned the one thing that mattered.”
Victoria’s lips parted.
Clara smiled through tears.
“Julian would have chosen the truth over comfort every time.”
Then she walked out.
Behind the glass, Julian watched his wife leave the room standing taller than when she entered.
May you like
Victoria remained seated.
For the first time, she looked alone.
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