Chapter 2 - THE HOUSE HER HUSBAND WAS WATCHING
The Gulfstream took off at 11:18 p.m.
Emma did not know where it was going until the pilot announced Charleston.
Not Lancaster County.
Not Miami.
Not anywhere Andrew would immediately search.
Rachel sat across from her.
Emma held the photograph with both hands.
She was asleep in the penthouse.
Six weeks pregnant.
The photograph had been taken months earlier.
“How did my father get this?”
“It was left inside his desk.”
“By Andrew?”
“We don’t know.”
“Who else had access to my bedroom?”
Rachel looked uncomfortable.
“Household staff. Security. Lila.”
Emma’s head snapped up.
“Lila was in my home?”
“Twice that we can document.”
“When?”
“While you were in Pennsylvania visiting your mother.”
Emma closed her eyes.
Andrew had told her Lila was simply a charity consultant.
A family friend.
A harmless young woman who “understood the donor circuit.”
Emma had apologized for being jealous.
She wanted to vomit.
“Why Charleston?”
Rachel answered:
“Your grandfather owned a house there through the trust.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“That was deliberate.”
Emma stared out at the darkness beneath the plane.
Every important person in her life apparently had decided secrecy was protection.
Her father.
Her grandfather.
Her husband.
She was tired of being protected by ignorance.
“What else don’t I know?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Your grandfather’s trust has been monitoring Andrew’s use of the Bennett shares.”
“Monitoring?”
“He has been borrowing against assets he does not legally own.”
Emma looked back.
“How much?”
“Approximately one hundred and eighty million dollars.”
Her stomach tightened.
“He can’t.”
“He did.”
“How?”
“Your signature.”
Emma froze.
“I never signed anything like that.”
Rachel opened another file.
Five loan agreements.
All bore Emma Weston’s signature.
Perfect.
Beautiful.
False.
Emma knew immediately.
“That isn’t mine.”
“We believe the signatures were electronically fabricated.”
“By Andrew?”
“Possibly.”
“Arthur?”
“Who?”
“Andrew’s attorney. Marcus Bell.”
Rachel wrote the name down.
“We’ll investigate him.”
Emma’s mind raced.
The kiss at the charity ball had not been stupidity.
Not arrogance alone.
Something had changed.
Andrew needed control quickly.
The baby.
The shares.
The forged loans.
Then Emma’s phone lit up.
Twenty-three missed calls.
Andrew.
Four from Lila.
One from Andrew’s mother.
Then a text.
Where are you?
Another:
This is childish. Come home.
Then:
We need to discuss the papers you left.
No apology.
Of course.
Emma turned the phone facedown.
Rachel asked:
“Do you want to block him?”
“No.”
Rachel looked surprised.
“I want everything documented.”
Good.
Ten minutes later, Andrew sent a photograph.
Her divorce papers.
On his desk.
Across the first page he had written:
NO.
Emma actually laughed.
Rachel raised an eyebrow.
“He thinks divorce requires his consent.”
“Andrew believes most things do.”
Then another message came.
This one made Emma stop breathing.
You should have told me you were taking my daughter out of state.
Emma stared at the word.
Daughter.
They had never learned the sex.
Her obstetrician had sealed the genetic screening results because Emma wanted a surprise.
Andrew had claimed he agreed.
She looked at Rachel.
“How does he know I’m having a girl?”
Rachel’s face changed.
“He shouldn’t.”
Emma’s pulse spiked.
Only the medical office knew.
Then a final text appeared.
Not from Andrew.
May you like
Unknown number.
He knows because he paid for the test. Ask who changed your clinic authorization.
