Chapter 3 - The Woman Before Bianca
Bianca stared at the document.
“That isn’t my name.”
Adrian remained frozen.
The woman listed beside him was Natalie Voss.
I had never heard of her.
Bianca handed Lucas to me without asking.
It happened so suddenly that instinct took over.
I held the baby against my chest while she snatched the paper from Martin.
“Who is Natalie?”
Adrian finally spoke.
“Someone from years ago.”
“Years ago?”
“Yes.”
Martin shook his head.
“The clinic records are eighteen months old.”
Bianca looked at him.
“You were with someone else?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
I almost laughed.
Adrian apparently had only one explanation for every betrayal.
It wasn’t like that.
Bianca paced across the living room.
Lucas shifted in my arms.
I gently rocked him.
He smelled like baby lotion and warm milk.
None of this belonged to him.
Not the lies.
Not the stolen money.
Not the adults suddenly realizing they had all been living in different versions of the same story.
Bianca pointed at Adrian.
“You told me Claire was basically your ex-wife when we met.”
I looked at her.
“When did you meet?”
“Two years ago.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Bianca continued.
“He said you refused to sign the paperwork.”
“There was no paperwork.”
“He said you lived separately.”
“We spoke every week.”
Her face crumpled slightly.
Then she caught herself.
“He said his mother hated you.”
I looked toward Evelyn’s memorial photograph.
“That part you can decide for yourself.”
Bianca followed my eyes.
The silence answered better than I could.
Adrian moved toward her.
“I was going to fix everything.”
She backed away.
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
“With Natalie too?”
“Natalie is irrelevant.”
Martin lifted another page.
“I doubt she would agree.”
Adrian glared at him.
“How much did my mother pay you to investigate me?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why?”
“Because she asked me to protect her estate.”
Martin opened a second report.
“When she discovered withdrawals from the dormant joint account, she initially believed someone had stolen your identity.”
Adrian looked away.
“She defended you.”
That landed.
I saw it.
Martin continued.
“She refused to believe her son would take money without asking. She requested an investigation because she wanted proof you were innocent.”
I pictured Evelyn sitting in the sunroom.
Thin hands folded in her lap.
Still defending Adrian after months without a phone call.
“What did the investigation find?” I asked.
Martin’s voice remained flat.
“Adrian reactivated the account using credentials Evelyn had given him years earlier for emergencies.”
I looked at Adrian.
“Emergencies?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I intended to replace it.”
“You used nearly four hundred thousand dollars.”
“My investments were about to pay off.”
“What investments?”
He didn’t answer.
Martin did.
“There were no significant investments.”
Bianca stared at Adrian.
“Then where did the money go?”
“We already know,” I said.
Her car.
Their apartment.
Hotels.
Jewelry.
Fertility treatments.
A life built from his dying mother’s savings.
But Martin was not finished.
“Approximately one hundred thousand remains unaccounted for.”
Adrian’s eyes flicked toward him.
It was small.
Almost nothing.
But I caught it.
Fear.
Martin caught it too.
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You withdrew it.”
“I moved money between accounts.”
“Which accounts?”
“I don’t remember.”
Martin made a note.
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“You’re interrogating me in my mother’s living room.”
“No,” Martin said. “If this were an interrogation, Detective Morales would be here.”
Adrian went still.
“Detective?”
“There is an active financial exploitation investigation.”
Bianca looked horrified.
“You said your mother gave you that money.”
“She did.”
“No,” Martin said. “She did not.”
Adrian’s anger finally broke through.
“She was my mother. It would have been mine eventually.”
I felt something inside me harden.
There are sentences people say when they finally stop pretending.
That was Adrian’s.
It would have been mine eventually.
Evelyn had not been a mother to him in the final years.
She had become an estate waiting to mature.
“Get out,” I said.
He turned.
“What?”
“Not you, Bianca.”
She looked surprised.
I shifted Lucas carefully back into her arms.
“You can stay until you decide where you’re going.”
Then I looked at Adrian.
“You need to leave.”
His mouth opened.
“This is my mother’s house.”
“No.”
I had never enjoyed saying anything more.
“It isn’t.”
He stared at me.
Martin quietly slid the certified deed across the table.
“Ownership transferred upon Evelyn’s death.”
“To Claire?”
“Yes.”
Adrian laughed.
“She’s throwing me out of the house I grew up in.”
“You threw yourself out.”
He looked at me as though I had slapped him.
Perhaps I finally had.
Bianca sat down.
Tears formed in her eyes.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Adrian turned toward her.
“We have an apartment.”
She stared at him.
“Do we?”
“What does that mean?”
“You told me the Scottsdale place was paid for.”
“It is.”
Martin cleared his throat.
“No.”
Adrian looked at him.
“What?”
“The Scottsdale property is leased.”
“So?”
“The account used to make rental payments was frozen six days ago.”
Bianca closed her eyes.
Adrian swore under his breath.
“How much money do you actually have?” she asked.
He didn’t answer.
She asked again.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“That isn’t a number.”
He turned on Martin.
“This is private.”
Bianca laughed.
“You brought me into your marriage. You bought my car with your mother’s money. You used stolen money to pay for our fertility treatment. Nothing is private anymore.”
Lucas began fussing.
She held him close.
For the first time, I saw how young she really was.
Twenty-two.
Old enough to make terrible decisions.
Young enough to believe a polished older man when he told her his wife was cruel, his mother was wealthy, his career was brilliant, and everything had been handled.
I did not forgive her.
But I understood something I had not understood at the airport.
Bianca had been lied to too.
Not in the same way.
Not with the same consequences.
But lied to.
Adrian picked up his suitcase.
“Fine.”
He headed toward the door.
Martin stood.
“Where are you going?”
“Hotel.”
“You need to remain available.”
“I’m not under arrest.”
“No.”
Adrian smiled.
“Then move.”
Martin did not.
“There is one more document you need to receive.”
He handed Adrian a notice.
“What is this?”
“A civil complaint filed by the Evelyn Mercer Estate.”
“For what?”
“Recovery of misappropriated assets.”
Adrian scanned the first page.
His face tightened.
“You’re suing me?”
“The estate is.”
“For money that would have been mine?”
“For money that belonged to Evelyn.”
He threw the document onto the table.
“This is insane.”
His phone vibrated.
He looked down.
For the first time that night, his expression became truly frightened.
I saw the name on the screen.
NATALIE.
Bianca saw it too.
She stood.
“Answer it.”
Adrian rejected the call.
“Answer it.”
“It’s nothing.”
The phone rang again.
NATALIE.
Bianca walked toward him.
“If you don’t answer, I will.”
He held the phone away.
“She’s unstable.”
Martin looked up sharply.
“Be careful with that accusation.”
Adrian ignored him.
The phone stopped.
Ten seconds later, mine rang.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice came through.
“Is this Claire Mercer?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Natalie Voss.”
Every person in the room became still.
“I’m sorry to call you,” she said, breathing unevenly. “But Evelyn gave me your number before she died.”
I looked at Evelyn’s photograph.
“Why?”
“Because she said that if Adrian ever came home with a baby, I needed to tell you what happened.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
Across the room, Adrian whispered one word.
“No.”
Natalie continued.
“I have medical records.”
“Records of what?”
May you like
There was a pause.
Then she said, “Claire, the baby Bianca is holding may not be Adrian’s son.”
