Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN VANESSA WAS HIDINGBy morning, Vanessa Cole had become America’s most hated almost-bride.
Her face covered every news feed: walking down the aisle, shouting at Claire, going pale as Margaret revealed the marriage certificate. Strangers online called her a gold digger, a monster, a criminal in couture.
Claire should have felt satisfied.
She didn’t.
Because hate was too easy.
And nothing about Vanessa Cole was easy.
At nine o’clock, Claire found Vanessa standing alone in the estate conservatory, barefoot beneath orange trees, her wedding dress replaced by black trousers and a cream sweater borrowed from some guest room closet.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Claire said.
Vanessa did not turn.
“Neither should you.”
Claire almost walked away.
Then Vanessa said, “My mother has dementia.”
Claire stopped.
The conservatory was warm and bright, absurdly peaceful after the night before.
Vanessa looked back.
“That’s what Daniel found out. My family was bankrupt. My father died owing money to men who don’t file lawsuits. My mother needed a private care facility. I was selling jewelry to keep her there.”
Claire said nothing.
Vanessa’s mouth tightened.
“So when Daniel came to me after Ethan’s crash, offering money if I helped keep him confused, I told myself it was temporary.”
“You hid my letters.”
“Yes.”
“You let me think my husband was dead.”
Vanessa flinched.
“Yes.”
“You knew my child would grow up without his father.”
Vanessa looked away.
“I know.”
The honesty made Claire angrier.
She wanted Vanessa cruel and shameless. She wanted her to hiss and threaten and make it simple.
Instead Vanessa looked like a woman who had made one unforgivable choice and then built a palace on top of it because she could not bear to look at what was underneath.
“My mother,” Vanessa said quietly, “doesn’t know who I am most days. But last month she looked at me and said, ‘You seem tired, sweetheart.’ I almost told her everything.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because if I said it out loud, I would have to stop.”
Claire’s eyes burned.
“That is not redemption.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
Vanessa turned fully.
“But Daniel didn’t plan this alone.”
Claire’s anger cooled.
“What do you mean?”
“After the crash, Daniel was scared. Not guilty scared. Controlled scared. He kept taking calls from someone named Harlan.”
Claire frowned.
“Harlan who?”
“I don’t know. He never said a last name. But every time Harlan called, Daniel listened.”
Claire remembered the message.
Ask who cut them.
“Did Ethan know a Harlan?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“His father did.”
Claire felt a chill.
Ethan’s father had died five years earlier.
Hadn’t he?
Before she could ask, the conservatory door opened.
Ethan entered.
His eyes moved first to Claire, checking her face, her posture, her stomach. Then to Vanessa.
“What is this?”
“Information,” Claire said.
Vanessa looked surprised that Claire did not accuse her of something else.
Ethan stepped closer.
Vanessa lifted her chin.
“I’m going to tell you everything I know.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“Why?”
Vanessa smiled sadly.
“Because Daniel tried to have me killed last night.”
Claire’s breath caught.
Ethan went still.
Vanessa pulled back her sleeve.
A dark bruise circled her wrist.
“When I left the library, one of his guards told me Daniel wanted to speak privately. I know what men sound like when they intend for a woman not to leave a room.”
Claire remembered the side corridor.
The guard.
Remove you quietly.
Ethan looked at the bruise.
His face darkened.
“You should have told security.”
Vanessa laughed.
“Ethan, half your security reports to Daniel.”
The conservatory suddenly felt less warm.
Claire touched her stomach.
Vanessa’s voice dropped.
“Last night I was useful. Today I’m a liability. And Claire…”
She looked at her.
“So are you.”
At that moment, a stone crashed through the conservatory glass.
Claire screamed.
Ethan pulled her down.
Glass exploded across the floor.
Wrapped around the stone was a white ribbon from Vanessa’s bridal bouquet.
May you like
And a note.
Two wives make two targets.
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