Chapter 6 - THE DEATH THAT STARTED EVERYTHING
Sienna Vale had never told me her father worked for Knox Dynamics.
Not once.
Not during our expensive dinners.
Not during the weekends in Miami.
Not while lying beside me and insisting I was the only man who had ever understood her.
Her father's name was Robert Vale.
He died nineteen years earlier in an industrial accident at one of our manufacturing facilities.
I remembered the incident.
Four employees were injured.
One died.
An investigation followed.
The company paid settlements.
Safety procedures were revised.
At least, that was what I believed.
I asked my attorney to retrieve the original reports.
When the files arrived, I felt sick.
Robert Vale had been a maintenance supervisor.
He'd reported defective equipment repeatedly.
His warnings were documented.
But production continued.
Then the accident happened.
The report concluded that his concerns had been improperly dismissed by management.
I stared at the documents.
Nineteen years ago, I'd been twenty-two.
Knox Dynamics was growing rapidly.
I'd been obsessed with expansion.
Revenue.
Contracts.
Winning.
I remembered the accident only as a terrible business crisis.
But to Sienna, it had been the day her father died.
I looked at his photograph.
A smiling man with dark hair.
Standing beside a little girl.
Sienna.
Maybe ten years old.
I felt something twist inside me.
That didn't excuse her deception.
But it explained the hatred.
And I had made myself an easy target.
That afternoon, I called the attorney who'd represented Robert Vale's family.
He was retired.
But he remembered the case.
“Mr. Knox,” he said, “I've wondered for years whether you'd ever call.”
I swallowed.
“Why?”
“Because you never met the family.”
I closed my eyes.
“I was young.”
“That didn't make them less important.”
I had no defense.
He continued.
“Robert's widow tried to contact you several times.”
“What happened?”
“Your office directed her to legal counsel.”
I stared at the photograph again.
Sienna's mother had asked to speak with me.
And I'd been too busy.
The pattern was becoming unbearable.
People calling.
People pleading.
Me choosing convenience.
“Did she receive compensation?” I asked.
“Yes. But money didn't bring her husband home.”
I couldn't speak.
That evening, Daniel brought another report.
“Sir, we've traced the initial contact between Sienna and Marcus.”
“When?”
“Seven months ago.”
I frowned.
“But Sienna and I started seeing each other four months ago.”
Daniel nodded.
“She had been preparing to approach you.”
I stared at him.
“Where did they meet?”
“At a private event hosted by Jonathan Pierce.”
My jaw tightened.
The conspiracy had been planned.
Every coincidence.
Every introduction.
Every carefully timed conversation.
And while those people were dismantling my business, I was dismantling my marriage.
Then Daniel handed me another document.
“There's one more thing.”
I looked down.
It was a recent photograph of Sienna meeting a woman outside a Miami medical office.
The woman wore a cream coat.
Her face was partly hidden.
But I recognized her immediately.
Claire's older sister.
Natalie.
The woman who'd helped my wife leave.
My blood ran cold.
May you like
Then Daniel said:
“Natalie has been communicating with Sienna for almost three months.”
