Chapter 3 - The Mistress Had Another Secret
Vincent read Thomas’s message three times.
Then he called.
The number was disconnected.
Aaron stood across the office.
“What happened?”
Vincent handed him the phone.
Aaron read the message.
His face changed.
“Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“I thought he was in Europe.”
“So did I.”
“When did you last see him?”
“Twelve years ago.”
That was not entirely true.
Vincent had seen Thomas once since then.
Four months earlier.
He simply had never told anyone.
Especially Claire.
Vincent walked toward the windows.
His brother had always been everything Vincent wasn't.
Charming.
Patient.
Smiling.
Thomas could shake a man's hand while planning how to take everything he owned.
Their father, Edward Rowe, understood Thomas too late.
When Edward died, the brothers inherited equal portions of three failing companies.
Vincent rebuilt them.
Thomas secretly borrowed against them.
When Vincent discovered nearly eighteen million dollars missing, Thomas disappeared.
Their relationship ended.
Until four months ago.
Vincent had walked into a private dining room at the Langham and found Thomas waiting.
“You look disappointed,” Thomas had said.
“I'd have to care whether you were alive to be disappointed.”
Thomas smiled.
“I missed you too.”
He claimed he had returned because someone inside Rowe Consolidated was moving money.
Vincent did not believe him.
Then Thomas showed him documents.
Forty-two million dollars.
Three subsidiaries.
Transactions authorized using Vincent’s digital credentials.
That was when Vincent began investigating.
Quietly.
And that was when Madison became involved.
At first, she helped him trace the transfers.
Then one night after hours, they drank too much.
Vincent had been exhausted.
Claire was staying with her mother.
Madison kissed him.
Vincent should have left.
He didn't.
What happened afterward had nothing to do with Thomas.
Nothing excused it.
But Vincent now understood something he had missed.
Madison had access to the investigation from the beginning.
And Thomas knew.
His phone rang.
Claire.
Vincent answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“Don't ask me that.”
“Claire, Thomas is back.”
“I know.”
Vincent went silent.
“How?”
“Madison.”
“What did she send you?”
“Enough.”
“Claire, listen to me. Whatever Madison sent—”
“She sent financial records showing forty-two million dollars missing.”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Four months.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
“This isn't the same.”
“No, Vincent. Apparently lying is just your preferred communication style.”
“I was protecting you.”
“Stop saying that.”
Her voice sharpened for the first time.
“Men always say they're protecting women when what they really mean is they decided the woman didn't deserve a choice.”
Vincent had no response.
“Did Madison know?”
“Yes.”
“So your mistress knew more about my husband's life than I did.”
The sentence hurt because it was true.
“Claire—”
“Did you meet Thomas?”
Vincent hesitated.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
“Before or after you started sleeping with Madison?”
“After.”
Silence.
Claire finally said, “I need the truth now.”
“You have it.”
“No. I have pieces.”
She hung up.
Vincent immediately called security.
“Find Claire.”
His security chief hesitated.
“Mrs. Rowe disabled vehicle tracking twenty minutes ago.”
Despite everything, Vincent almost smiled.
Of course she had.
Claire knew him too well.
At 11:30, Claire met Daniel inside a private office belonging to an old friend.
They spread Madison’s documents across a conference table.
“The transfers started eleven months ago,” Daniel said.
“Before the affair.”
“Yes.”
“And before Thomas contacted Vincent.”
“Yes.”
Claire looked at the authorization records.
“Vincent’s credentials approved them.”
“Apparently.”
“You don't believe it?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Vincent may be many things, Claire. Stupid isn't one of them. Moving forty-two million dollars from your own company using your own credentials would be spectacularly stupid.”
Claire looked at another document.
“Who benefits?”
“We don't know.”
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Claire answered.
“Mrs. Rowe?”
A woman's voice.
Madison.
Claire became very still.
“Where are you?”
“That doesn't matter.”
“You slept with my husband.”
Silence.
“Yes.”
“You shook my hand while you were doing it.”
“I did.”
“Why should I believe anything you tell me?”
“You shouldn't.”
The answer surprised Claire.
Madison continued.
“But you should believe documents.”
“What does Thomas want?”
“Control.”
“Of the company?”
“Of Vincent.”
Claire frowned.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“You don't know what happened twelve years ago.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can't over the phone.”
Claire almost laughed.
“You expect me to meet you?”
“No.”
Madison paused.
“I expect you to decide whether hating me matters more than knowing the truth.”
The call ended.
A message appeared moments later.
An address.
Daniel looked at it.
“You're not going.”
“I am.”
“Claire.”
“Daniel, I just became controlling shareholder of a company with forty-two million dollars missing. If Madison knows where it went, I need to know.”
Two hours later Claire entered a quiet lakeside café north of Chicago.
Madison sat in the back.
She looked different without the polished corporate clothes.
Tired.
Almost frightened.
Claire sat opposite her.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Finally Madison said, “I'm sorry.”
Claire’s expression remained cold.
“Don't.”
“I need to say it.”
“No. You need forgiveness. Those are different things.”
Madison lowered her eyes.
Claire placed the documents on the table.
“Talk.”
Madison swallowed.
“Thomas recruited me eleven months ago.”
Claire froze.
“For what?”
“To get close to Vincent.”
The café seemed to disappear around them.
Madison continued.
“He knew the board would never remove Vincent while he controlled voting shares. Thomas needed leverage.”
“What kind?”
“Financial misconduct. Personal misconduct. Anything.”
Claire stared.
“You started working for Vincent because of Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“And the affair?”
Madison's face tightened.
“At first, Thomas wanted me to get close enough to access Vincent's accounts.”
“At first?”
Madison looked directly at Claire.
“The affair wasn't supposed to happen.”
Claire almost stood.
Madison quickly continued.
“I know how that sounds.”
“No, I don't think you do.”
“I fell for him.”
Claire's jaw tightened.
“He never loved me.”
Madison's voice cracked slightly.
“I knew that long before last night.”
Claire said nothing.
“Every time we were together, eventually he talked about you.”
That hurt more than Claire expected.
“I don't need details.”
“I'm not trying to hurt you.”
“You're seven months late for that.”
Madison nodded.
Then she slid a flash drive across the table.
“Thomas has someone else inside Rowe Consolidated.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I've been trying to find out.”
Claire looked at the drive.
“What's on this?”
“Recordings. Emails. Transfers.”
“Why give it to me?”
“Because Thomas knows Vincent's weaknesses.”
Madison leaned closer.
“But he doesn't understand you.”
Claire’s eyes narrowed.
“What does that mean?”
“He expected you to leave Vincent.”
“I did.”
“No.”
Madison shook her head.
“He expected you to walk away from everything.”
Claire looked at the flash drive.
“But you took control of the company instead.”
Madison almost smiled.
“That terrified him.”
Claire reached for the drive.
Then Madison said something that stopped her.
“There's one more thing.”
“What?”
“The forty-two million dollars isn't missing.”
Claire stared.
“Where is it?”
Madison's face lost color.
“It was used to buy something.”
“What?”
“Your shares.”
Claire slowly withdrew her hand.
“That’s impossible.”
“Someone has been secretly acquiring derivative rights tied to your original preferred stock for eleven months.”
“But I converted them this morning.”
“I know.”
Madison's eyes held hers.
“And that's exactly why Thomas wanted you to do it.”
Claire felt cold.
“Why?”
“Because the moment you converted your shares, a dormant clause was triggered.”
“What clause?”
Madison pushed the flash drive closer.
“One that Daniel apparently didn't find.”
Claire stared at her.
Madison whispered:
“You don't control Vincent's empire, Claire.”
“Then who does?”
Madison looked toward the café window.
A black sedan had just stopped outside.
“By midnight tonight…”
She swallowed.
May you like
“Thomas Rowe might.”
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