Chapter 6 - The Woman in the Photograph
Simone did not remember leaving Samuel Price’s house.
She remembered the photograph.
Her mother’s face.
Older.
Thinner.
Alive.
She remembered Adrian taking the keys from her shaking hand.
She remembered Vivienne crying in the back seat.
Then Manhattan lights appeared through the windshield.
Adrian’s security team waited outside Vivienne’s building.
“He’s still upstairs,” one man said.
“And the woman?”
“Still inside.”
“Any weapons?”
“No visual confirmation.”
Vivienne stepped forward.
“That’s my home.”
Adrian stopped her.
“You’re not entering first.”
“That woman might be Elena.”
“That is exactly why you’re not entering first.”
Simone looked at him.
“I am.”
“No.”
“She’s my mother.”
“And Preston may be dangerous.”
“You said nobody controls me.”
Adrian held her gaze.
Then stepped aside.
“Behind me.”
That compromise she accepted.
They took the private elevator.
Vivienne remained between two security guards.
The doors opened.
The penthouse was silent.
Wedding gifts covered one wall.
Champagne bottles stood unopened.
Simone heard voices.
A man.
Then a woman.
Adrian moved toward the living room.
Simone followed.
Preston stood beside the windows.
His tuxedo jacket was gone.
His tie hung loose.
He looked exhausted.
And beside him stood Elena Bellamy.
Simone knew instantly.
Not because of photographs.
Because the woman lifted one hand to her mouth exactly the way Simone did when trying not to cry.
“Simone.”
One word.
Eighteen years collapsed.
Simone could not speak.
Elena stepped toward her.
Stopped.
Did not presume.
That mattered.
Simone whispered, “You’re alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you come back?”
Elena cried silently.
“I wanted to.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I know.”
“You watched me bury you.”
“I know.”
“You watched me grow up without you.”
“I know.”
Each answer was softer.
More unbearable.
Simone shook her head.
“I needed you.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“I know.”
The anger finally came.
“Stop saying that!”
Her voice cracked.
Elena flinched.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t get to be sorry and make eighteen years disappear.”
“No.”
“You don’t get to walk back into my life because a ledger showed up.”
“No.”
Simone’s breathing shook.
“Then tell me why you’re here.”
Elena looked at Preston.
“Because he found me first.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“What did he want?”
Preston laughed weakly.
“Can we stop pretending I’m the villain in every room?”
Vivienne stared at him.
“You forged Simone’s signature.”
“I protected our future.”
“You knew my mother before you knew me.”
His expression changed.
Vivienne continued.
“You married me because of the trust.”
“No.”
“Did you love me?”
He looked away.
That was worse than any answer.
Vivienne began crying.
Preston said, “At first, no.”
She froze.
“At first?”
“I was supposed to get close to you.”
“Supposed to?”
“By my father.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Your father is dead.”
“Yes.”
“But his organization isn’t.”
Preston rubbed both hands over his face.
“My father spent thirty years moving money through family trusts. The Bellamy Heritage Trust was one of several.”
Elena interrupted.
“No. He tried to make it one.”
Preston looked at her.
“You don’t know everything.”
“I know enough.”
Simone looked between them.
“Then explain it.”
Elena took a breath.
“Your grandmother’s assets were clean. Legitimate properties. Investments. Land.”
“Then why target them?”
“Because respectable money hides dirty money.”
Adrian nodded.
“Layering.”
Elena looked at him.
“Exactly.”
Preston said, “My father needed control of the trust.”
“And Marianne helped him,” Simone said.
“Yes.”
Vivienne covered her mouth.
Preston looked at her.
“Your mother believed she deserved the money.”
“She taught me Simone was stealing it.”
“She believed that.”
“You used her.”
“Yes.”
The honesty destroyed whatever remained.
Vivienne sat.
Simone looked at Elena.
“Why federal protection?”
“I collected copies of transfers, shell companies, names.”
“The ledger.”
“One of them.”
“One?”
Elena nodded.
“There were three.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“Where are the others?”
“One went to federal investigators.”
“And the second?”
“Gabriel Rourke.”
“The attorney who helped me.”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
Elena’s expression changed.
“Dead.”
Adrian went still.
“When?”
“Two months after I disappeared.”
Simone asked, “And the third?”
Elena looked at Preston.
“He has it.”
Everyone turned.
Preston laughed.
“I had it.”
“What happened?”
“Someone stole it from my safe this afternoon.”
Vivienne stared.
“The man at the wedding.”
Preston nodded.
“I hired him to take Theodore’s wheelchair.”
Simone stepped toward him.
“You did what?”
“I needed the hidden ledger.”
“You damaged the brakes.”
“No.”
“Vivienne heard you say Dad wouldn’t make it to dessert.”
Preston looked at her.
“You were listening?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I said he wouldn’t make it to dessert because the man was supposed to wheel Theodore into a private room before dinner and search the chair.”
Adrian’s gaze sharpened.
“So the brake sabotage wasn’t yours.”
“No.”
“Convenient.”
“It’s true.”
Elena looked frightened.
“Then someone else knows.”
The room fell silent.
Adrian asked, “Who?”
Elena whispered, “Someone from the old network.”
Preston nodded.
“My father had partners.”
“Names.”
“I don’t know all of them.”
“One.”
Preston hesitated.
“Samuel Price.”
Simone stared.
“No.”
Elena turned sharply.
“What?”
Preston continued.
“Price worked for them.”
“That’s impossible,” Elena said.
“He treated you at Bellamy House.”
“He protected me.”
“He also signed the false death certificate.”
Elena stopped.
Simone remembered.
Margaret had said the same.
Price’s signature.
Theodore whispered, “He sent us here.”
Everyone turned toward him.
“What?”
“He insisted Simone call the number.”
Simone looked at the letter.
Elena shook her head.
“I never gave Samuel my current number.”
Silence.
Simone felt cold.
“Then who wrote the letter?”
Elena stepped toward her.
“I wrote most of it.”
“Most?”
“The first page.”
Simone unfolded it.
There had been two pages.
The second contained the phone number.
Elena stared.
“That isn’t mine.”
Adrian took the letter.
“Someone added it.”
Preston whispered, “They wanted Simone to find Elena.”
“Why?”
Elena looked toward the dark windows.
“To bring all of us together.”
A small red light blinked beneath the television.
Adrian moved instantly.
He pulled a device from behind the cabinet.
A transmitter.
Vivienne whispered, “We’re being recorded.”
Adrian crushed it under his shoe.
His phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
He opened it.
THANK YOU FOR GATHERING EVERYONE.
Another message appeared.
THE FINAL LEDGER IS ALREADY IN THE ROOM.
Simone looked around.
“Where?”
A third message.
ASK THE BRIDE WHAT HER MOTHER SEWED INTO HER WEDDING DRESS.
Vivienne went completely still.
Simone turned.
“What?”
Vivienne’s face drained.
“My mother chose this dress.”
“Five years ago?”
“She ordered it before she died.”
Elena stepped forward.
“Take it off.”
Vivienne stared.
“What?”
“The dress.”
They moved into the bedroom.
Minutes later, Vivienne emerged wearing a robe.
Adrian laid the gown across the bed.
Elena examined the seams.
Near the inner hem, one stitch pattern differed.
She cut it open.
Inside was a narrow waterproof sleeve.
A USB drive slid out.
Preston whispered, “The ledger.”
Adrian picked it up.
The lights flickered.
Then the building’s fire alarm began screaming.
His phone rang.
Samuel Price’s number.
Adrian answered.
Nobody spoke.
May you like
Then a distorted voice whispered:
“If Simone wants her mother to survive the night, she will bring that drive downstairs alone.”
