Chapter 4 - What Ethan Had Really Been Using Me For
"Put it down," Vincent said.
Ethan held the folder against his chest.
"You've told her enough."
Clare stared at him.
"How did you get in here?"
"I followed you."
"The vault requires authorization."
Ethan gave Vincent a cold smile.
"I still have Moretti credentials."
"Not anymore."
Vincent pulled out his phone.
Ethan's expression hardened.
"You're firing me?"
"I did that ten minutes ago."
Clare almost admired the efficiency.
Ethan looked at her.
"This is what he does. He controls everyone."
"You cheated on me three minutes before our wedding."
"That doesn't make him innocent."
"No. But it makes you a terrible person to ask me for trust."
Ethan flinched.
Clare pointed to the folder.
"Give it to me."
"It's complicated."
"Everything becomes complicated when you're caught."
"Project Bellweather affects you too."
"Then let me read it."
Ethan hesitated.
Vincent stepped forward.
"Give her the folder."
Finally Ethan placed it on the table.
Clare opened it.
Project Bellweather wasn't a secret business acquisition.
It was a restructuring proposal.
Daniel Bennett and Vincent had planned to create an employee ownership program using a portion of their shares.
Thousands of employees would gradually gain equity.
Clare looked up.
"This is what Dad wanted?"
"Yes," Vincent said.
"And you?"
"I agreed."
"Why didn't it happen?"
"Daniel died before finalizing his contribution. Anthony fought mine. The board killed it."
Ethan scoffed.
"Because it would have cost the family control."
"It would have reduced our control," Vincent said. "That's different."
Clare turned pages.
Her father's handwritten notes filled the margins.
Companies survive when ordinary people have reasons to care about extraordinary outcomes.
That sounded exactly like him.
She remembered him tipping servers too much.
Learning janitors' names.
Bringing doughnuts to his office every Friday.
Clare looked at Ethan.
"Why did you hide this?"
"Because Bellweather could destroy the value of your holdings."
"Reduce it?"
"Potentially."
"By how much?"
"Millions."
Clare stared at him.
"And it would give employees ownership."
"Symbolic ownership."
Vincent shook his head.
"Real voting equity."
Ethan snapped, "Don't pretend you're some saint."
"I've never claimed to be."
Clare closed the folder.
Suddenly she understood why her father had left her shares rather than cash.
They were a decision.
A choice.
Ethan wanted her to choose wealth and control.
Her father had wanted her to choose what kind of person she would become.
"I want independent lawyers reviewing everything."
Vincent nodded.
"I'll arrange—"
"No."
He stopped.
"I'll arrange them."
A faint approval entered his eyes.
"Good."
Clare looked at Ethan.
"And I want copies of every document you gave me before the wedding."
His silence returned.
"Ethan."
"There may be a problem."
"What problem?"
"The proxy agreement was already filed."
Vincent's head snapped toward him.
"Without the marriage?"
"It activates upon marriage."
"There was no marriage."
"I know."
Clare caught something in his voice.
"What aren't you saying?"
Ethan looked toward the door.
Vincent moved in front of it.
"Answer her."
Ethan finally exhaled.
"I filed a supplemental declaration yesterday."
"What declaration?"
"That the ceremony had legally occurred privately."
Clare couldn't process the sentence.
"What?"
"It was temporary."
"You claimed we were already married?"
"The public ceremony was symbolic."
"You forged my consent?"
"No."
Clare stepped closer.
"Did I sign anything saying we were married?"
Ethan didn't answer.
She remembered the wedding paperwork.
Dozens of signatures.
A notary had been present.
Her stomach turned.
"Which page?"
Ethan said nothing.
Clare grabbed the folder and began searching.
Vincent called his attorney.
Within thirty minutes, two lawyers arrived.
By midnight, the answer was clear.
Ethan had attempted to create the appearance that Clare had consented to a private civil ceremony.
But the filing lacked required verification.
It could be challenged immediately.
Clare felt both relieved and sick.
One attorney looked at her.
"We can freeze any proxy authority tonight."
"Do it."
Ethan stared at her.
"You're going to destroy everything."
"No."
Clare looked at him.
"I'm going to stop you from deciding what belongs to me."
The attorney left to make calls.
Ethan sank into a chair.
For the first time, he looked less like a polished heir and more like a frightened boy.
"I did love you."
Clare's anger sharpened.
"Stop saying that."
"It's true."
"You don't get to use love as decoration after treating me like a transaction."
His eyes filled.
She hated that part of her still reacted.
Two years didn't disappear in an hour.
But love could survive inside someone even after trust died.
That didn't mean you had to obey it.
Clare took off her veil.
She folded it carefully.
Then she placed it on the table.
"I'm going home."
Vincent offered to drive.
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
In the car, neither spoke for several blocks.
Finally Clare said, "Why did you say that upstairs?"
Vincent glanced over.
"What?"
"That someone else should offer me the future Ethan didn't value."
For once, Vincent looked uncomfortable.
"I was angry."
"That didn't sound like anger."
"No."
"Then what was it?"
He looked out the window.
"Bad timing."
Despite everything, Clare laughed.
A small, exhausted laugh.
Vincent smiled faintly.
"I haven't heard you do that tonight."
"Don't get used to it."
"I wouldn't presume."
She studied him.
He was almost twenty-six years older than her.
Ethan's father.
A man connected to secrets her own father had hidden.
Nothing about the situation was simple.
And Clare had just learned what happened when she accepted simple explanations.
"I don't want another man deciding my future."
Vincent nodded.
"Then don't let one."
Including him.
The answer mattered.
When they reached Clare's apartment building, Vincent walked her to the entrance.
"Get some sleep."
"I doubt that's happening."
"Then get coffee."
"That's your emotional advice?"
"It's worked for me."
Clare almost smiled again.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
She opened the message.
A photograph appeared.
Vanessa entering Adrian Vale's car.
Timestamp: twelve minutes ago.
Beneath it:
ETHAN WASN'T THE ONLY ONE USING YOU.
Clare looked up sharply.
Vincent read the message over her shoulder.
His expression darkened.
Then another message arrived.
THIS STARTED BEFORE ETHAN EVER MET YOU.
A third followed.
ASK VANESSA WHO PAID HER TO GET CLOSE TO HIM.
Clare stared at the screen.
Then her phone rang.
Vanessa Cole.
Clare answered.
Vanessa was crying.
"Clare, don't hang up."
"Why?"
"Because Ethan wasn't supposed to fall in love with me."
Clare went still.
May you like
Vanessa whispered:
"I was paid to make sure he never married you."
