Chapter 6 - The Woman Vincent Chose
Elise Marlowe had always believed Vincent Caruso’s greatest weakness was guilt.
She had been wrong.
His greatest weakness was control.
Guilt made him generous.
Control made him predictable.
When Elise first met him at a charity gala in Boston, she had not planned an affair.
Not immediately.
She had planned access.
Her brother Marcus had lost millions when Vincent exposed a port-contract fraud scheme.
Marcus blamed Vincent.
Elise blamed everyone except Marcus.
Then Adrian Vale appeared.
Former Caruso employee.
Angry.
Knowledgeable.
Useful.
The plan grew.
Elise would become someone Vincent felt responsible for.
Not loved.
Responsible.
Love was unreliable.
Responsibility was a chain.
The medical condition had been partly real.
A mild rhythm disorder.
Not life-threatening.
Adrian arranged falsified reports suggesting something worse.
Vincent paid for consultations.
Then private treatment.
Then late-night phone calls.
Claire suspected.
Elise knew she would.
That was part of the strategy.
But what happened at Greyhaven had gone further than Elise expected.
She had known Claire might go into labor during the storm.
She had known Greyhaven possessed one emergency convoy.
She had known flooded roads could isolate the estate.
What she had not expected was the bleeding.
At least that was what she told herself.
Vincent entered her apartment without knocking.
Elise stood.
“You can’t just—”
“Adrian Vale.”
Her face betrayed her.
Vincent closed the door.
“How long?”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“Wrong answer.”
“Vincent—”
He placed photographs on her table.
Vale leaving Marcus Marlowe’s office.
Vale entering Westbridge Clinic.
Vale meeting Elise seven weeks earlier.
She said nothing.
Vincent’s voice stayed calm.
“You manipulated the clinic records.”
“No.”
“You accessed Greyhaven.”
“I didn’t.”
“Vale did.”
“I don’t control Adrian.”
“But your brother pays him.”
Elise’s eyes filled with tears.
“You think I wanted Claire hurt?”
“I think you wanted me forced to choose.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
Vincent went still.
Elise realized the mistake.
“So you did know.”
“I knew there might be an emergency.”
“Might?”
“The storm.”
“You knew Claire’s maternity protocol.”
Elise looked away.
Vincent finally understood.
“You wanted her to hear.”
Elise’s silence was confirmation.
“You wanted my marriage destroyed.”
“You were already destroying it!”
The words exploded from her.
Vincent did not move.
“You came to me,” Elise said. “You called me. You slept in my bed. Don’t make me some evil seductress because you suddenly feel guilty.”
“I’m not.”
That stopped her.
“I betrayed Claire before you ever had the chance to manipulate anything.”
Elise stared.
Vincent continued.
“That belongs to me.”
His eyes hardened.
“But what belongs to you is deliberately placing a pregnant woman inside a manufactured emergency.”
“I didn’t know she would hemorrhage.”
“You knew she could need that convoy.”
“I wanted you to choose me.”
Vincent looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.
“Congratulations.”
Elise flinched.
“You won.”
He turned.
“Where are you going?”
“To the police.”
Fear replaced anger.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Watch me.”
“Vincent.”
He stopped.
“If I go down, your affair becomes public.”
He looked back.
“My wife already knows.”
“Your businesses.”
“Let them know.”
“Your reputation.”
Vincent almost smiled.
“What reputation do you think I’m protecting?”
Then he left.
That same evening, Claire sat in Rebecca Sloan’s kitchen with Ethan sleeping in a bassinet.
Nora had returned to Massachusetts to retrieve her belongings.
Mara was preparing the divorce filing.
For the first time in weeks, Claire was alone.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She nearly ignored it.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Hello?”
A male voice.
“Mrs. Caruso?”
Claire’s body went still.
“Who is this?”
“You don’t know me.”
“Then this call is over.”
“Ask your husband why he never told you about September seventeenth.”
Claire froze.
“What?”
“September seventeenth.”
“Who are you?”
The line disconnected.
Claire immediately called Mara.
Then Vincent.
She hated that she did it.
He answered on the first ring.
“Claire?”
“What happened September seventeenth?”
Silence.
Her stomach tightened.
“Vincent.”
“Where did you hear that date?”
“Someone called me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
His voice changed.
“Did they threaten you?”
“No.”
“Claire, tell me exactly what was said.”
She repeated it.
Vincent went quiet.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“I need to speak to you in person.”
“No.”
“This isn’t about us.”
“That sentence doesn’t work anymore.”
“Claire.”
“Tell me now.”
He exhaled.
“September seventeenth was the day someone tried to access Greyhaven’s medical wing.”
Claire felt cold.
“What?”
“Security blocked it.”
“You never told me.”
“I thought it was a technical breach.”
“You knew I was pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“And you hid it.”
“Yes.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Why?”
“Because I believed I had handled it.”
There it was again.
The disease beneath everything.
Vincent handled things.
Vincent decided what Claire needed to know.
Vincent decided which danger mattered.
Vincent decided who received the convoy.
“I have to go.”
“Claire, wait.”
She hung up.
Ethan stirred.
Claire lifted him carefully.
His tiny hand curled around her finger.
She whispered, “No more secrets.”
Outside the kitchen window, a dark sedan sat across the street.
Its engine was off.
Its headlights were dark.
Claire did not notice it.
But the man inside had been watching the house for forty minutes.
And when Claire carried Ethan upstairs, he lifted his phone.
May you like
“She’s here,” he said.
---
