Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Had Been Waiting for My Wedding
Arthur moved first.
He stepped behind the door.
Julian turned off the laptop.
Genevieve lay back and closed her eyes.
The lock clicked.
A woman entered.
Dr. Elena Moore.
Genevieve’s plastic surgeon.
Arthur relaxed slightly but did not leave his position.
Dr. Moore looked at Genevieve, then at Julian.
“You shouldn’t all be here.”
Genevieve opened her eyes.
Dr. Moore did not look surprised.
“You knew?” Genevieve asked.
“I suspected.”
“How?”
“Your neurological responses improved this afternoon.”
Genevieve swallowed.
“Did you tell Adrian?”
“No.”
“Who else has access to that information?”
“Nurses. Neurology. Hospital administration.”
Arthur stepped forward.
“And anyone willing to pay for it.”
Dr. Moore stared at him.
“Who are you?”
“A friend.”
Genevieve interrupted.
“Doctor, I need absolute confidentiality.”
“You already have it.”
“No. I need my chart restricted.”
Dr. Moore hesitated.
“That requires administrative approval.”
“Then get it.”
Dr. Moore studied her.
“You believe someone in this hospital is reporting on you?”
“Yes.”
The doctor looked at the bandages covering Genevieve’s face.
Something hardened in her expression.
“I’ll handle it.”
Before leaving, she added, “And Genevieve?”
“Yes?”
“The injuries are serious, but they are not the catastrophe someone may want you to believe.”
Genevieve felt emotion rise unexpectedly.
“Will I look like myself?”
Dr. Moore paused.
“Recovery will take time.”
That was not an answer.
But it was not hopelessness either.
“I’ll come back in the morning.”
After she left, Arthur turned to Genevieve.
“We need to move you.”
“No.”
“You’re exposed here.”
“Adrian needs to believe I’m trapped here.”
Julian said, “I agree with Arthur.”
Genevieve looked at both men.
“If I disappear tonight, Adrian knows I’m awake. He destroys everything.”
Arthur paced.
“And if he decides a failed attack isn’t enough?”
“He won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Genevieve looked at Adrian’s engagement ring on her finger.
“He needs me alive long enough to make the marriage legal.”
The words silenced the room.
At dawn, Julian and Arthur left separately.
Julian went to First Metropolitan.
Arthur went hunting for Bellweather Capital.
Genevieve remained in bed.
Adrian returned at 9:05 carrying roses.
A photographer stood in the hallway.
Of course.
Adrian entered alone.
He placed the flowers near the window.
Then he approached the bed.
Genevieve kept her eyes closed.
His thumb brushed her hand.
“My beautiful girl.”
She wanted to tear her hand away.
Instead, she let it remain limp.
“I’m fixing everything,” he whispered.
Genevieve listened.
“The whole world is praying for you.”
He bent down.
“And tomorrow, we’re getting married.”
Her stomach turned.
Adrian continued.
“It’s what you wanted.”
No.
It was what he needed.
He kissed her hand.
Then a second voice came from the doorway.
“Adrian?”
Sabrina.
Genevieve almost opened her eyes from disbelief.
Adrian hissed, “What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Not here.”
“You won’t answer me.”
“Because I told you to stay away.”
Sabrina stepped farther inside.
“You said the documents were enough.”
“They are.”
“Then why are you marrying her tomorrow?”
Adrian glanced toward Genevieve.
“She can’t hear us.”
Sabrina lowered her voice anyway.
“You said once the proxy activates, we leave.”
“We do.”
“And my wedding?”
“Later.”
“You said next week.”
“Plans change.”
Sabrina laughed once.
Sharp.
“So hers matters more?”
Adrian moved close to her.
“This isn’t about romance.”
“Then why do I feel like the mistress?”
“Because you’re behaving like one.”
Genevieve felt a bitter satisfaction.
Sabrina had helped destroy her life for a man who did not even respect her.
But then Sabrina said something Genevieve did not expect.
“I did what you asked with Charles.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Genevieve’s pulse jumped.
Adrian’s voice became deadly quiet.
“Get out.”
“You said he only needed to miss that meeting.”
“Get out.”
“I helped you because you said nobody would get hurt.”
Genevieve’s fingers twitched beneath the blanket.
Adrian grabbed Sabrina.
Genevieve heard the fabric of Sabrina’s dress shift.
“Never say his name in this room again.”
Sabrina’s voice trembled.
“I found the email.”
“What email?”
“The one Charles sent before the crash.”
Adrian released her.
“What email?”
“To Genevieve.”
Genevieve felt ice run through her.
She had never received an email.
Sabrina continued.
“It was scheduled to send automatically.”
“What did it say?”
“I don’t know. It had an attachment.”
“Where is it?”
“I deleted it.”
“You idiot.”
“I was protecting you!”
“No. You were destroying evidence before I could see it.”
“Evidence of what?”
Adrian did not answer.
Genevieve understood something important.
Sabrina did not know everything.
Adrian had compartmentalized the conspiracy.
He had used her.
Maybe he had used everyone.
Sabrina’s voice broke.
“Was Charles’s crash really an accident?”
Adrian said, “Leave.”
“Answer me.”
“Leave.”
“Did you kill him?”
Genevieve forgot to breathe.
Adrian stepped closer.
“You don’t want answers to questions like that.”
Sabrina went silent.
Then she backed away.
The door closed behind her.
Adrian remained beside Genevieve for another minute.
Then his phone rang.
“Yes?”
He listened.
“When?”
Another pause.
“No. Do nothing until I get there.”
He left.
Genevieve opened her eyes immediately.
Her entire body shook.
Not from weakness.
From rage.
She reached for her phone.
One message waited from Julian.
BOX 314 OPENED. CALL ME WHEN SAFE.
Genevieve called.
Julian answered immediately.
“What was inside?”
“A folder.”
“And?”
“A notarized trust amendment. Three bank statements. A handwritten letter.”
“From Dad?”
“Yes.”
Genevieve closed her eyes.
“What does the amendment say?”
Julian’s voice became strange.
“That Charles transferred emergency voting control before his death.”
“To whom?”
“You.”
“I already had control.”
“No.”
Julian hesitated.
“He transferred secondary control.”
“To who?”
“Someone else.”
Genevieve waited.
“Julian.”
“To a beneficiary identified only by initials.”
“What initials?”
“G.L.”
“That’s me.”
“No. Your legal designation is G.E.L.”
Genevieve Laurent’s full name was Genevieve Elise Laurent.
“Then who is G.L.?”
“That’s what I’m trying to determine.”
Genevieve thought of every relative.
Every executive.
Nobody.
“What about the letter?”
“It’s sealed.”
“Open it.”
“It says only Genevieve may open it.”
“Bring it.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Julian, Sabrina just admitted she did something involving my father.”
Julian went quiet.
“What?”
“She intercepted an email he sent me before the crash.”
“Can she recover it?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll have Arthur contact her.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s scared of Adrian.”
“That’s useful.”
“It’s dangerous.”
Julian sighed.
“You sound like your father.”
Genevieve stared at the ceiling.
“I hope not. He trusted the wrong person too.”
Two hours later, Julian returned.
He concealed the documents inside a medical records folder.
Genevieve opened her father’s letter with trembling hands.
My dearest Gen,
If you are reading this, circumstances have gone farther than I hoped.
There is something about our family I should have told you years ago.
Genevieve stopped.
Julian stood beside her.
She continued.
When your mother and I married, she had already become guardian to a child whose existence we protected for legal reasons. That child grew up away from our public life. I helped support him. More importantly, I trusted him.
Genevieve frowned.
A child?
Her mother had died when Genevieve was twelve.
She remembered no such person.
The letter continued.
His initials are G.L.
If anyone attempts to take control of Laurent Holdings from you, he holds temporary secondary authority to block the transfer.
Genevieve looked at Julian.
“Who?”
Julian shook his head.
She kept reading.
You have met him.
You simply do not know who he is.
Genevieve’s skin prickled.
The letter continued.
There is one person I feared might discover this arrangement.
Adrian Cole.
Genevieve gripped the paper.
I began investigating Adrian after learning that his identity before age twenty-four cannot be verified.
Genevieve stopped again.
“What?”
Julian took the page.
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
She read the final paragraph.
If Adrian learns who G.L. is, that person will be in danger.
Trust the man who carries my old St. Christopher medal.
Genevieve stared at the sentence.
Her father had carried a St. Christopher medal for decades.
After his death, it disappeared.
Nobody knew where it went.
Then Genevieve remembered the hospital room.
Someone had been wearing a small medal on a chain.
A man.
Close to her bed.
Not Julian.
Not Arthur.
Adrian.
No.
Adrian wore a thin gold chain sometimes, but she had never noticed the pendant.
Then another face came to mind.
The younger man in black who had appeared briefly yesterday.
The man she had assumed was hospital security.
Dark hair.
Quiet eyes.
A gold medallion against his shirt.
Genevieve sat upright.
“Julian.”
“What?”
“The man who was here yesterday.”
“What man?”
“He was kneeling beside the bed when I first woke.”
Julian frowned.
“There was no man on the visitor log.”
Genevieve’s heart pounded.
Before either could speak, her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Sabrina.
She was sitting alone inside a car.
Terrified.
Below the picture was one sentence.
I KNOW WHAT ADRIAN DID TO YOUR FATHER.
Then a second message arrived.
COME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE PROOF.
Genevieve stared at the screen.
A third message appeared.
A location.
The old Laurent warehouse.
May you like
And beneath it:
MIDNIGHT.
