Chapter 1 - The Man Who Came Home Too Late
Adrian returned on Sunday afternoon wearing the same navy cashmere coat he had taken to Napa.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The second was Celeste’s perfume.
Not because I was there to smell it.
I was still recovering at my mother’s house.
Noah told me everything later.
Adrian walked through the penthouse door dragging a leather suitcase behind him, tossed his keys into the silver bowl by the entrance, and called my name as though the previous six days had been ordinary.
“Claire?”
Nothing.
He frowned.
The apartment was silent.
No television.
No music.
No smell of the ginger tea I had been drinking every afternoon since the pregnancy entered its third trimester.
He walked farther inside.
“Claire?”
That was when Noah stepped out of the living room.
Adrian stopped.
“Noah?”
His assistant looked terrible.
His tie was crooked.
His eyes were bloodshot.
He had barely slept since the hospital.
Adrian gave an irritated laugh.
“What are you doing in my house?”
Noah did not answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at the man he had worked for for almost nine years and seemed to struggle with where to begin.
Adrian glanced toward the hallway.
“Where’s Claire?”
Noah swallowed.
“Sir…”
Something in his voice finally broke through Adrian’s impatience.
“What happened?”
“Your wife had a serious medical emergency.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“What medical emergency?”
Noah looked down.
“She was hospitalized Thursday night.”
Adrian’s suitcase slipped from his hand.
“What?”
“She tried to call you.”
“I know she called.”
Seven times.
The admission made Noah’s jaw tighten.
Adrian continued quickly.
“She didn’t say she was going to the hospital.”
“She texted you that something was wrong.”
“I was in meetings.”
Noah stared at him.
For one ugly second, the truth stood between them.
Both men knew Adrian had not been in meetings.
He had been at dinner with Celeste.
Then in a private wine tasting.
Then inside a resort suite whose cost had been charged to Vale Meridian.
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“Where is Claire now?”
“With her mother.”
“Why?”
Noah’s eyes filled.
“Because she lost the baby.”
Adrian stopped moving.
His lips parted.
No sound came out.
Noah forced himself to continue.
“Daniel didn’t survive.”
The color disappeared from Adrian’s face.
He grabbed the back of a chair.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“Sir—”
“No.”
He stumbled toward the hallway.
The nursery door was open.
Inside were the pale blue walls we had chosen together.
The crib my mother had ordered.
A stuffed elephant Adrian had bought in London.
Tiny clothes hung neatly inside the closet.
On the rocking chair rested one hospital bracelet.
Mine.
And beside it was the folded blue blanket.
Adrian walked toward it like a man approaching something dangerous.
Then he saw the envelope on the changing table.
CLAIRE VALE v. ADRIAN VALE.
He ripped it open.
The divorce petition was inside.
So was formal notice that I had revoked his voting proxy.
Adrian read the page twice.
Then a third time.
“No.”
Noah stood in the doorway.
“There’s an emergency board meeting tomorrow morning.”
Adrian turned slowly.
“What board meeting?”
Noah hesitated.
“Mrs. Vale called it.”
Adrian laughed once, stunned.
“Claire doesn’t call board meetings.”
“She does now.”
“She doesn’t understand the company.”
That sentence was repeated to me later.
And strangely, it hurt less than I expected.
Because Adrian was about to discover exactly how much I understood.
He snatched up his phone.
“I’m calling her.”
Noah stepped forward.
“She asked that all communication go through her attorney.”
“I’m her husband.”
“Not for much longer.”
Adrian stared at him.
Noah had never spoken to him like that before.
“What exactly did Claire do while I was gone?”
Noah took a slow breath.
“She revoked your proxy. She requested a forensic review of corporate travel expenses. She froze three executive discretionary accounts pending board approval.”
Adrian’s eyes widened.
“Three?”
“Yes.”
“Whose?”
“Yours.”
He paused.
“Celeste Marr’s.”
Another pause.
“And Martin Hale’s.”
That name finally frightened Adrian.
Martin was Vale Meridian’s Chief Financial Officer.
Adrian whispered:
“Why Martin?”
Noah looked toward the envelope in Adrian’s hand.
“Because apparently Claire found something before she left the hospital.”
“What?”
Noah’s voice became almost inaudible.
“A transfer.”
Adrian froze.
“What transfer?”
May you like
“Eight million dollars.”
And judging from Adrian’s face, it was not the first time he had heard that number.
