Chapter 5 - The Woman I Thought I Hated
“Olivia!”
The line disconnected.
Thomas grabbed his coat.
I blocked him.
“Where are you going?”
“To find her.”
“How?”
He froze.
Exactly.
We knew nothing.
The investigator outside was already calling police after hearing my description.
Alannah told me not to move.
Thomas ignored her.
“I know where Rourke might take her.”
“Where?”
He hesitated.
“An old development site.”
“Tell the police.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because there are documents there.”
I stared.
“Evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Then especially tell the police.”
“If authorities find them without context, they'll think they're mine.”
“Are they?”
“Some.”
There it was again.
Every road led back to a partial confession.
I was done protecting him.
I called Alannah.
She contacted federal investigators through Marcus.
Within ninety minutes, the situation had become much larger than our marriage.
Corporate security.
Local police.
Financial crimes investigators.
Thomas gave a statement.
Then another.
And slowly, the truth emerged.
Rourke had built a network of shell companies designed to profit from confidential acquisition information.
Thomas had participated.
Not from the beginning.
But enough.
He had justified each step.
One tip.
One investment.
One transfer.
One signature.
One lie.
By the time he realized the structure could destroy him, he was trapped.
Olivia had discovered suspicious payments while consulting for a related investment firm.
She contacted Thomas because his name appeared indirectly in one transaction.
Instead of telling me, Thomas tried to solve the problem himself.
Partly because he wanted to protect me.
Mostly because he wanted to protect himself.
And somewhere inside all of that, the old attraction between him and Olivia had returned.
He admitted they kissed in Greece.
Once.
He stopped it.
Maybe that was true.
Maybe it wasn't.
I discovered I didn't need to know.
By midnight, investigators located Olivia.
She had not been kidnapped in the movie sense.
Rourke's men had confronted her at an office where she stored records, taken her phone, and prevented her from leaving for almost an hour.
She escaped through a service corridor after a security guard arrived.
The scream we heard had happened when one of the men grabbed her.
She was bruised.
Shaken.
Alive.
The next afternoon, Olivia asked to see me.
I almost refused.
Then I went.
She was sitting in a private conference room at Alannah's office.
She looked nothing like the villain I had imagined when I first saw the hotel reservation.
She was thirty-three.
Dark blonde hair.
Tired eyes.
A bruise near her wrist.
She stood when I entered.
“Celeste.”
I stayed near the door.
“Olivia.”
“I don't expect you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
She nodded.
“I wouldn't.”
I sat.
She did too.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she said:
“I knew he was married.”
“Yes.”
“I knew about Lily.”
“Yes.”
“I still went.”
“Yes.”
She swallowed.
“I am sorry.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
“For Greece.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
Her eyes lowered.
“Why did I go?”
“Yes.”
She thought carefully.
“Because part of me wanted to know if he still chose me.”
There it was.
Ugly.
Human.
“I had spent months investigating Rourke. Thomas and I started talking because of that. Then we started talking about other things.”
“Your relationship.”
“Yes.”
“He told you we were unhappy?”
She winced.
“He said you had become distant.”
I laughed quietly.
“Did he mention I left my job to take care of his daughter?”
“No.”
“Did he mention I freelanced after bedtime?”
“No.”
“Did he mention he traveled three weeks some months?”
“No.”
Olivia looked ashamed.
“I believed the version that made my decisions easier.”
That was the most truthful thing she'd said.
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
She looked surprised.
“Don't misunderstand. I don't like you.”
“I know.”
“But I appreciate an honest sentence.”
She almost smiled.
Then her face became serious.
“There is something Thomas doesn't know.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“The company in your name wasn't only for money.”
I leaned back.
“What else?”
“Rourke used it to acquire voting shares.”
“In companies?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To influence a merger.”
“Which merger?”
“Hartley Systems.”
Thomas's major client.
The account he'd claimed to be working on in London.
I felt sick.
“If it goes through?”
“Rourke makes millions.”
“And me?”
“You become the visible owner of one of the entities that accumulated shares.”
“So I'm implicated.”
“Unless we prove you weren't involved.”
“Can we?”
Olivia nodded.
“I kept everything.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew eventually someone would need proof.”
She reached into a bag.
Alannah had allowed her to bring documents after investigators copied them.
Olivia placed a small external drive on the table.
“Emails. Recorded calls. Rourke's instructions. Thomas objecting sometimes.”
“Sometimes.”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever agree?”
Olivia looked at me.
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“Is there anything else?”
“Yes.”
She slid a printed email toward me.
The sender was Rourke.
Recipient:
Thomas Beaumont.
Four months earlier.
Subject:
CELESTE.
I didn't want to read it.
I did anyway.
Your wife remains the cleanest route. Keep her uninvolved. If she ever becomes suspicious, the Greece situation may give you enough personal noise to keep her focused elsewhere.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
“Greece situation?”
Olivia looked confused.
“That email was before we planned Greece.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“We didn't decide to meet there until six weeks ago.”
The email was four months old.
A cold realization moved through me.
“Rourke knew Thomas was talking to you.”
“Yes.”
“He knew there might be an affair.”
“Yes.”
“And he wanted it.”
Olivia's face changed.
“Celeste…”
The trip had not merely hidden the financial scheme.
Someone had expected the betrayal to distract me.
Maybe encouraged it.
Maybe manipulated Thomas's ego.
Maybe Thomas had walked willingly into exactly the scandal Rourke needed.
My phone rang.
Alannah.
“Celeste, where are you?”
“Conference room.”
“Stay there.”
“What happened?”
“We received the signature audit.”
My heart accelerated.
“My signature?”
“Yes.”
“Was it forged?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“By Thomas?”
“No.”
I opened them.
Olivia stared at me.
“Then who?”
Alannah's voice dropped.
“We traced the digital certificate.”
I gripped the phone.
“And?”
“The signature was created from a device registered to someone you know.”
“Who?”
Alannah said the name.
May you like
I stopped breathing.
Priya Nair.
