Chapter 4 - The Name Hidden In The Past
The old photograph slipped from my fingers as I whispered: "That can't be possible." When Adrian Vale opened Ethan's hidden letter, he discovered a second document attached behind the picture. But one sentence was underlined: "Adrian, she can never know the truth." Adrian finally understood why Ethan had been afraid of him.
I stared at the photograph.
A hospital room.
A newborn baby.
A man standing beside the bed.
I didn't recognize him.
But Adrian did.
That was the part that terrified me.
He wasn't confused.
He wasn't trying to figure it out.
He knew.
His eyes remained fixed on the picture, and for the first time since I met him, the calm billionaire disappeared.
The confident man from the airplane was gone.
The man in front of me looked like someone who had just opened a door he spent years trying to keep closed.
"Adrian."
He didn't answer.
"Who is that?"
Silence.
My fingers curled into my palm.
"Who is the man in the picture?"
Adrian slowly looked at me.
"Blaire..."
"No."
My voice cracked.
"I deserve the truth."
Fiona was sleeping in the back seat.
The driver was silent.
The city moved outside the window.
But inside that car, everything had stopped.
Adrian looked down at the photograph again.
"I knew Ethan before you met him."
I felt my chest tighten.
"You said you worked together."
"We did."
"What kind of work?"
He hesitated.
And that hesitation told me more than any answer.
"Private investments."
I laughed quietly.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I couldn't believe how much of my life had been hidden from me.
"Everyone knew something except me."
Adrian looked at me.
"Blaire."
"My husband knew."
My voice grew sharper.
"You knew."
"I didn't know about Fiona."
"But you knew enough to protect me."
He didn't deny it.
That hurt.
"Tell me what happened."
Adrian looked at the photograph.
Then he finally spoke.
"Six years ago, Ethan and I were partners in a company acquisition."
I listened carefully.
"He was ambitious. Intelligent. Charming."
A bitter smile appeared on his face.
"Those were the things everyone saw."
"What did you see?"
"The things he hid."
My heart started beating faster.
"He was involved in something illegal?"
"No."
Adrian paused.
"Something worse."
I frowned.
"What could be worse?"
"He was willing to destroy people to protect his reputation."
The words felt familiar.
Because I knew that side of Ethan.
The side nobody else saw.
The side behind closed doors.
The side that apologized after hurting me.
The side that promised it would never happen again.
Until it did.
"How does Fiona connect to this?"
Adrian looked away.
"I don't know everything."
I became frustrated.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
He looked at me.
"Because someone worked very hard to make sure nobody knew."
I looked down at Fiona.
My little girl.
The reason I ran.
The reason I survived.
The reason I had been fighting every day.
"Did Ethan know her father?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
Then he said:
"Yes."
My entire body went cold.
"What?"
"He knew."
"How?"
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"No."
His voice became serious.
"I'm not."
He leaned forward.
"Blaire, listen to me. Ethan changed records. He hid documents. He manipulated information."
"Why?"
Adrian looked at Fiona.
"Because he wanted control."
That word hurt.
Control.
That was Ethan's favorite thing.
Control over our home.
Control over my choices.
Control over my money.
Control over every person who questioned him.
But Fiona?
Why would he need control over a child?
I remembered the day Fiona was born.
The day I became a mother.
The day everything changed.
Ethan had arrived hours later than he promised.
When he entered the hospital room, he looked exhausted.
Not happy.
Not excited.
Afraid.
I had asked him:
"What's wrong?"
He smiled.
A fake smile.
"Nothing."
I believed him.
I always believed him.
That was my mistake.
Adrian opened the envelope again.
"There is more."
My eyes moved to the papers.
"More?"
He nodded.
"The letter wasn't written only to me."
He pulled out another page.
This one was older.
The paper was yellow.
The handwriting was different.
Not Ethan's.
A woman's handwriting.
My breathing stopped.
Because I recognized it.
My mother's.
I hadn't seen her handwriting in years.
"What is that?"
Adrian handed it to me.
I took the paper with shaking hands.
The first line made my heart stop.
"Blaire, if you are reading this, then Ethan failed to keep the truth buried."
I couldn't move.
My mother.
My mother knew.
I continued reading.
"My daughter, there is something I should have told you before Fiona was born..."
My vision blurred.
I looked at Adrian.
"You had this?"
He looked guilty.
"No."
"Then how?"
"Someone sent it to me this morning."
"Who?"
He didn't answer.
I looked back at the letter.
The next sentence was impossible.
"The man you believe is Fiona's father is not the man who gave her life."
My hand covered my mouth.
No.
No.
That wasn't possible.
I was her mother.
I carried her.
I knew everything.
Didn't I?
The letter continued.
"The truth was hidden because Ethan wanted you to believe a lie."
My hands started shaking.
Adrian reached toward me.
I pulled away.
Not because I was afraid of him.
Because I was afraid of the truth.
"What else don't I know?"
He looked at me.
"I don't know."
"Stop saying that."
My voice broke.
"I am tired of not knowing."
The car became silent.
Then Fiona woke up.
"Mommy?"
I immediately turned.
"I'm here, baby."
She looked at Adrian.
Then at me.
"Are we going home?"
The question destroyed me.
Because I didn't know where home was anymore.
I held her hand.
"We're going somewhere safe."
But even as I said it, I wasn't sure.
The driver suddenly slowed down.
Adrian noticed immediately.
"What happened?"
The driver looked in the mirror.
"Three vehicles have been following us since the airport."
My blood froze.
Adrian's expression changed.
"How long?"
"Seven minutes."
He reached for his phone.
"Take the second route."
The driver nodded.
I stared at Adrian.
"Who are they?"
He didn't answer.
Because he already knew.
And that scared me.
The car turned sharply.
Outside, the city lights blurred.
Fiona held my hand tighter.
"Mommy, are we running again?"
I looked at my daughter.
I didn't have an answer.
Adrian watched us quietly.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
The color disappeared from his face.
"What?"
I couldn't hear the person on the other end.
Only Adrian's reaction.
"No."
A pause.
Then:
"That's impossible."
He ended the call.
"What happened?"
He looked at me.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he slowly turned the phone toward me.
There was a picture on the screen.
A picture taken only minutes ago.
Of me.
Of Fiona.
Of Adrian.
Inside this car.
Someone had been close enough to take it.
Below the image was a message.
One sentence.
"Ask Adrian why he buried the truth about Fiona's father."
And beneath it was a name.
May you like
A name that made Adrian whisper:
"He's alive."
