Chapter 12 - My Father Warned Me About My Own Husband
I did not tell Adrian what Mason said.
Not yet.
The safe-deposit box in New York was opened under federal supervision.
Inside were documents.
The original list.
Banking records.
And an old digital camera wrapped in cloth.
Investigators recovered the memory card.
There were four videos.
The final one had been recorded inside my father's car approximately forty minutes before the crash.
When his face appeared on the screen, I forgot how to breathe.
Dad.
Alive.
Forty-nine years old.
Tired.
Angry.
Real.
Not memory.
Not photograph.
He looked into the camera.
“If anyone finds this, my name is Daniel Brooks.”
His voice broke something inside me.
“I've been followed for three days. I believe the Vale family knows I'm meeting investigators tomorrow.”
He listed names.
Walter.
Celeste.
Thomas.
Then said something unexpected.
“I don't believe Walter wants me dead.”
I looked toward the agents.
Dad continued.
“He's compromised, greedy, and afraid of his wife. But he's not a killer.”
Accurate.
Then:
“Celeste is different.”
His expression hardened.
“She believes preserving the family justifies anything.”
Then Dad said:
“There is also the boy.”
The boy.
“Adrian.”
My stomach tightened.
He would have been twenty-one.
“I don't know how much he knows. He's young. Angry. Desperate for his mother's approval.”
I leaned closer.
Dad continued.
“Tonight, I saw him outside my gym.”
I whispered, “What?”
“He followed Lena home yesterday.”
My skin went cold.
Adrian knew me before the charity gala.
Years before.
“I don't know why.”
Dad leaned closer to the camera.
“But if anything happens to me, keep Lena away from Adrian Vale.”
The video ended.
I sat frozen.
Rachel touched my shoulder.
“Lena?”
I barely heard her.
Eight years before we supposedly met, Adrian had followed me.
Why?
I left the room and called Victoria.
“Did Adrian know who I was before the charity gala?”
Silence.
“Victoria.”
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
“How long?”
“Since he was twenty.”
I gripped the phone.
“Why?”
“Because Mom told him about you.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You always know.”
“She was obsessed with the Brooks trust.”
“Eight years ago?”
“Longer.”
“Did Adrian approach me because of it?”
“No.”
“How can you know?”
“Because he refused.”
That stopped me.
“What?”
“Mom wanted him to meet you years ago.”
“To marry me?”
“Not then. She wanted information about the trust.”
“And he refused?”
“Yes.”
“Then why was he following me?”
Victoria hesitated.
“He was curious.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That is not reassuring.”
“I know.”
“Did he ever talk to me?”
“No.”
“Did Dad confront him?”
“I don't know.”
An hour later, Adrian sat across from me in Rachel's conference room with attorneys present.
I put the video on the table.
“Tell me the truth.”
He watched.
His face slowly collapsed.
When it ended, he covered his eyes.
“You knew me.”
“Yes.”
“Eight years before the gala.”
“Yes.”
“You followed me.”
“Twice.”
“Why?”
“My mother told me you were dangerous.”
I almost laughed.
“At twenty-three?”
“She said your father had evidence that could destroy us.”
“So you stalked his daughter?”
“I was twenty-one and stupid.”
“Those are not synonyms.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
He swallowed.
“I went to your gym.”
“My father's gym.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I saw you spar.”
Despite everything, I noticed the faintest memory of a smile.
“You knocked out a guy who outweighed you by forty pounds.”
“I didn't knock him out.”
“You dropped him.”
“He was wearing headgear.”
“That's what you told him afterward.”
My anger sharpened.
“Focus.”
He nodded.
“I watched you leave. I followed your truck.”
“My father saw you.”
“Apparently.”
“Did he confront you?”
“Yes.”
I froze.
“Where?”
“Gas station.”
“What did he say?”
Adrian looked ashamed.
“He knew exactly who I was.”
“Then?”
“He told me if my mother sent me, I should go back and tell her Lena Brooks wasn't property.”
My eyes filled.
Of course he did.
“What did you say?”
“I told him I wasn't there for my mother.”
“Were you?”
“At first.”
“And after?”
Adrian looked at me.
“I became interested in you.”
“That's supposed to help?”
“No.”
“Why didn't you approach me?”
“Because your father told me not to.”
“And eight years later?”
“I thought enough time had passed.”
“My father was dead.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
“No.”
“Then your mother started pushing you to marry me.”
His silence answered.
“You knew.”
“I knew she cared about the trust.”
“You married me anyway.”
“I told myself it didn't matter because I actually loved you.”
The sentence made me angrier than anything else.
“You loved me?”
“I did.”
“You threatened me with a belt.”
His face collapsed.
“I know.”
“You planned to force me to sign over my company.”
“I know.”
“That isn't love.”
“No.”
For once, Adrian did not defend himself.
He looked at his hands.
“I became my mother.”
The room fell quiet.
“No,” I said.
He looked up.
“Your mother made choices. You made choices. Don't use her as an excuse.”
He nodded slowly.
“You're right.”
I stood.
“Our marriage is over.”
“I know.”
“I will never come back.”
“I know.”
“But if you genuinely want to become a different person, do it because the next woman you love deserves better. Not because you're trying to win me back.”
Adrian's eyes filled.
He nodded.
Then his attorney slid a signed document across the table.
Adrian had voluntarily waived any claim to my businesses, inheritance, and marital property.
I stared.
“What's this?”
“My first correct decision as your husband.”
I looked at him.
“Soon to be ex-husband.”
A sad smile.
“Yes.”
As I walked toward the door, he called my name.
“Lena.”
I stopped.
He said quietly:
“Your father was right to warn you about me.”
That may have been the first completely honest thing Adrian Vale ever said.
But outside the conference room, Rachel was waiting with worse news.
Jonathan Price—the federal prosecutor on Mason's list—had disappeared.
May you like
And before vanishing, he had accessed the secure evidence database.
Including the location of my mother.
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