Chapter 2 - The Man at Table Seventeen
I didn’t go to the address.
Not that night.
Tyler followed me home and spent twenty minutes alternating between apologies and explanations that explained nothing.
Karin was a mistake.
Chicago had been complicated.
He loved me.
He had planned to tell me.
Every sentence began with himself.
I listened from the opposite side of our kitchen island.
Then I asked, “What is 514-B?”
Silence.
It lasted perhaps two seconds.
It was enough.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“Who gave you that card?”
“Adrian Moretti.”
Tyler’s jaw tightened.
“Stay away from him.”
“Why?”
“He’s dangerous.”
“So are husbands who lie about divorcing their wives.”
“This is bigger than Karin.”
“Finally, something we agree on.”
I went upstairs and locked the bedroom door.
At 8:52 the next morning, I entered Vance Tower.
My security badge failed.
I tried again.
Red light.
A guard approached apologetically.
“Mrs. Vance, your access was suspended last night.”
“By whom?”
He hesitated.
“Mr. Vance.”
Of course.
I called the chief financial officer.
Voicemail.
General counsel.
Voicemail.
My assistant answered and whispered, “Giana, Tyler told everyone you’re taking medical leave.”
My blood went cold.
“I’m what?”
“He said you suffered an emotional episode last night.”
There it was.
The affair wasn’t his emergency.
My credibility was.
I walked outside.
Adrian was waiting across the street.
“Your badge?”
“Disabled.”
“He moved faster than I expected.”
“You expected this?”
“I expected fear.”
He handed me a visitor pass.
VANCE TOWER — ARCHIVAL SERVICES.
“How?”
“Your father arranged it.”
We entered through the adjoining parking garage.
Below the main lobby was a service corridor I had never seen.
At its end stood an old freight elevator.
Adrian pressed B5.
“Who are you really?” I asked.
“A man who owed your father.”
“That’s vague.”
“It’s intentional.”
The elevator descended.
“My father’s dead.”
Adrian looked at me.
“Are you certain?”
The doors opened.
I thought about the photograph.
“Tell me.”
“Not yet.”
I laughed once.
“You men have a remarkable addiction to deciding when women deserve information.”
Something almost resembling amusement crossed his face.
“Fair.”
He led me through an archive.
Room numbers passed.
Then 514.
There was no B.
Adrian touched the silver wolf card against a blank section of wall.
A hidden panel clicked.
514-B appeared.
Inside was a small office.
No windows.
One desk.
One safe.
And an old laptop.
My father’s photograph stood beside it.
I approached the safe.
The combination was my mother’s birthday.
Inside were ledgers.
Bank transfers.
Shell companies.
And Tyler’s signature.
Thirty-one million, four hundred thousand dollars.
Transferred over four years.
But Tyler wasn’t the final recipient.
Every transaction ended at the same company.
Kestrel Meridian LLC.
“Who owns it?”
Adrian opened the laptop.
“That’s what your father was trying to determine.”
A folder appeared.
KARIN VALE.
My stomach dropped.
Inside were hotel receipts, photographs and transfers.
Tyler had sent Karin $480,000.
But another file was worse.
DIVORCE CONTINGENCY.
I opened it.
A draft agreement transferred my voting shares in Vance Holdings to Tyler if I became medically incapacitated or if our marriage ended under a particular clause.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
I had never signed it.
“That’s forged.”
“I know.”
My hands shook.
Then I saw the witness signature.
Karin Vale.
“She knew.”
“Possibly.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Adrian shut the laptop.
The door handle moved.
“Behind me.”
“No.”
“Giana.”
“I’m tired of standing behind men.”
The door opened.
Karin stood there.
She looked nothing like the woman from Bellarosa.
No gold dress.
No diamonds.
Jeans.
Sweater.
Terrified eyes.
She held an envelope.
“You have to help me.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“Because Tyler lied to both of us.”
She stepped inside and locked the door.
Then she put the envelope on the desk.
“My real name isn’t Karin Vale.”
Adrian went still.
She opened the envelope.
A birth certificate slid out.
I saw my father’s name.
And beneath it, the name of the child.
Karin looked directly at me.
“Giana, I think I’m your sister.”
Before I could speak, someone outside entered the access code.
The lock turned green.
May you like
And Tyler’s voice came through the door.
“I know you’re in there.”
