Chapter 9 - The Father Who Lost Everything
Patrick Fagan signed away control of Catherine's foundation at nine seventeen on a Monday morning.
Elara watched him sign.
He looked at the document.
Then at her.
"I used to think losing control meant losing my family."
Elara said nothing.
Patrick continued.
"Turns out holding too tightly was how I lost it."
She didn't comfort him.
Some realizations needed to hurt.
Gerald's criminal case destroyed much of the old Fagan empire.
Investigators seized assets connected to fraud.
Board members resigned.
Newspapers printed names Patrick had spent decades protecting.
Within months, the mansion was sold.
Elara visited once before closing.
Her old bedroom looked absurdly small.
Vadim stood in the doorway.
"This was your room?"
"Yes."
"There are closets larger than this."
"I know."
"Why?"
"My father said I didn't need more."
Vadim's jaw tightened.
Elara smiled.
"Don't."
"What?"
"Don't be angry for me every time."
"I enjoy it."
"I know."
She walked to the window.
"Sometimes I want to remember without needing revenge."
Vadim joined her.
"Then remember."
She found an old photograph in a drawer.
Elara at thirteen.
Catherine behind her.
Patrick beside them.
All smiling.
She stared at it for a long time.
People were complicated.
Patrick had loved Catherine.
He had also betrayed her.
He had feared for Elara.
He had also abused her.
Recognizing one truth didn't erase another.
Elara put the photograph in her bag.
Downstairs, Patrick waited.
He no longer owned the house.
That fact seemed to have aged him.
"There's something I want to say."
Elara waited.
"I'm sorry."
She almost smiled.
Patrick noticed.
"What?"
"You've never said that without explaining yourself afterward."
He nodded.
"I know."
No "but."
No justification.
It was a beginning.
Not forgiveness.
A beginning.
As Elara left, Patrick called after her.
"Are you happy?"
She turned.
"Yes."
"Because of him?"
Elara looked at Vadim.
Then back at her father.
"No."
Patrick seemed surprised.
"I'm happy because I finally stopped believing you."
She walked outside.
Vadim followed.
In the car, he glanced at her.
"That was brutal."
"You approve?"
"Deeply."
She laughed.
Life became quieter after Gerald was convicted.
Elara expected quiet to feel boring.
Instead, it felt luxurious.
She learned how Vadim drank coffee.
Black.
She learned he secretly hated opera despite owning a box at the theater.
She learned he read history late at night.
Vadim learned Elara sang terribly while cooking.
He learned she left books face down despite insisting it damaged their spines.
He learned she loved thunderstorms.
Their marriage slowly stopped resembling an arrangement.
One night, almost a year after the wedding, they returned to the ballroom where they'd married.
The estate was hosting a foundation fundraiser.
Elara found the same gold chair.
She sat.
Vadim approached.
"You're recreating the crime scene."
She smiled.
"Stand there."
He moved to her right.
"Like this?"
"Exactly."
She looked toward the place Patrick had stood.
Empty now.
Then toward where Mara and Sofia had watched.
They were across the room laughing.
Elara looked up at Vadim.
"Do you remember what you asked me?"
"Why you were afraid."
"I lied."
"I know."
"I said I wasn't."
"I know."
She took his hand.
"I'm not anymore."
Vadim's expression softened.
"Good."
She stood.
Their wedding photographer happened to be working the fundraiser.
Elara waved him over.
"Can you take one?"
The photographer arranged them.
Vadim looked uncomfortable.
Elara laughed.
"You're terrifying criminals but afraid of photographs."
"I dislike evidence."
The camera clicked.
This time Elara wasn't seated beneath someone else's judgment.
She stood beside her husband.
By choice.
Later that night, Vadim handed her an envelope.
Elara groaned.
"No more envelopes."
"This one is harmless."
"That's what everyone says."
She opened it.
Inside were two airline tickets.
Italy.
Her mother had once written about wanting to take Elara to Florence.
Vadim had remembered.
"When?"
"Whenever you want."
She stared at him.
"You didn't schedule it?"
"No."
"Book hotels?"
"No."
"Plan security?"
"Obviously."
She laughed.
"Almost healthy."
"I'm learning."
She kissed him.
Her phone rang.
Mara.
Elara answered.
Her cousin sounded strange.
"Elara, are you with Vadim?"
"Yes."
"Put me on speaker."
Vadim's smile disappeared.
Elara did.
Mara continued.
"I was sorting the last boxes from the mansion."
Elara's stomach tightened.
"What did you find?"
"A document."
"What kind?"
"A birth certificate."
Elara frowned.
"Whose?"
Mara hesitated.
Then said:
"Yours."
Elara laughed nervously.
"Why is that strange?"
"Because Patrick Fagan isn't listed as your father."
Silence.
Elara's hand tightened around the phone.
Vadim stepped closer.
"Who is?"
Mara inhaled.
"The name is someone we know."
Elara stared at Vadim.
May you like
Mara whispered the name.
And Vadim's face went completely white.
