Chapter 6 - THE BABY GRANT KNEW MIGHT NOT BE HIS
I did not believe Piper immediately.
Neither did she ask me to.
She explained.
Months earlier, before she and Grant became exclusive—or whatever word people use for an affair with a married man—she had briefly reconciled with an ex-boyfriend.
One weekend.
She told Grant.
Then she became pregnant.
A prenatal paternity test was done.
Not court-grade.
Private.
Result:
Grant was unlikely to be the biological father.
“How unlikely?”
“More than ninety-nine percent excluded.”
I sat down.
“Grant knew?”
“Yes.”
There it was.
“Then why list himself?”
Piper started crying.
“He said biology didn’t matter.”
That could have been admirable.
Then she added:
“He said the Ashford name would protect the baby.”
Not admirable anymore.
“What about the actual father?”
“He disappeared when I told him.”
“Name?”
“Ethan Vale.”
Her former boyfriend.
Not related despite the surname coincidence? No—Piper’s surname was Vale. Ethan was not. She corrected herself.
“Sorry. Ethan Cole.”
Stress.
Fine.
Then:
“Why use my address?”
“Grant told me you agreed.”
I laughed once.
“He said we were already separated privately.”
Of course.
“He said the insurance was temporary because mine was changing.”
I closed my eyes.
Piper had participated in an affair knowingly.
But she may not have known the financial scheme.
Then:
“Did you know about BrightSteps?”
Silence.
Too long.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“My brother ran it.”
“I know.”
“Grant said it was legitimate.”
“Did you ever see mobile clinics?”
“No.”
“Children?”
“No.”
“Medical staff?”
“No.”
Another silence.
Then:
“I stopped asking.”
That mattered.
She was not innocent in every way.
Neither was she the architect.
Then Piper whispered:
“Grant gave Mason instructions.”
“What instructions?”
“Grant wanted grant money moved fast before the audit.”
There it was.
“Do you have proof?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“My laptop.”
Grant had taken it.
Of course.
“When?”
“This morning.”
He arrived after the baby was born, kissed her forehead, asked about the baby—
then took the laptop from her hospital bag “to keep things secure.”
Piper finally understood.
“What’s on it?”
“Emails. Grant used my account sometimes.”
“Why?”
“So things wouldn’t connect to him.”
I closed my eyes.
Then Piper said:
“There’s a folder called Harbor.”
“What is Harbor?”
“I don’t know.”
Grant had told her never to open it.
Naturally, she eventually did.
Inside were spreadsheets.
Hotel properties.
Loans.
Foundation grants.
And a line:
V.A. EXIT — PHASE 2.
My initials.
Vivienne Ashford.
“What did it say?”
Piper swallowed.
“Penthouse. Insurance. Trust waiver. Board narrative.”
My skin went cold.
Grant had a plan labeled with my initials.
A plan for my exit.
Then Piper said:
“One more line.”
“What?”
“Reputation containment.”
I had thought Grant wanted divorce.
May you like
He did.
But apparently he also wanted to control the story of why I left.
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