Chapter 5 - The Marriage Cassian Refused to Finish
Cassian took the phone from my hand.
Not roughly.
Not possessively.
He simply held out his hand and waited until I gave it to him.
That distinction had become important.
He studied the number.
“Blocked.”
“I know.”
“Did you recognize the voice?”
“No.”
“Age?”
“Older than you.”
“Accent?”
“Local.”
I rubbed my arms.
“What do we do?”
“We?”
I looked at him.
“You’re involved whether I like it or not.”
“That sounds almost like trust.”
“It isn’t.”
“Good.”
I frowned.
He handed the phone back.
“Trust given under pressure is useless.”
That was the first moment I wondered how many things Cassian Vale understood because he had once failed to understand them.
We sat outside my mother’s hospital room until midnight.
Eventually Evelyn arrived.
She carried normal clothes for me.
Jeans.
A sweater.
Flat shoes.
“I guessed the size,” she said.
“You’ve watched me wash your clothes for three years.”
She looked ashamed.
“Right.”
I changed in the restroom and left the wedding dress folded on a chair.
For the first time since morning, I could breathe.
When I returned, Cassian was standing by the window.
Evelyn had left.
“You should go home,” I told him.
He looked at the dark glass.
“My home may currently contain a traitor.”
“Victor.”
“Yes.”
“So go somewhere else.”
“I am.”
“Where?”
He looked at me.
“Here.”
I almost smiled.
“You own hotels.”
“Several.”
“Probably penthouses.”
“A few.”
“And you’re sleeping in a hospital?”
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
I sat down.
“Is that crime-boss humor?”
“No.”
“That’s disappointing.”
A small silence passed between us.
Then I asked the question I had been avoiding.
“Why six wives?”
Cassian did not pretend not to understand.
“My father believed marriage was business.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“He arranged my first engagement before I was twenty-five.”
“And you agreed?”
“I wanted access to her family’s shipping routes.”
“You really know how to make romance sound magical.”
“I’ve never claimed talent in that area.”
“What happened?”
“She wanted California. I wanted New York. We lasted fourteen months.”
“And wife two?”
“Banking connections.”
“Three?”
“Political family.”
“Four?”
“Hotels.”
“Five?”
“International shipping.”
“And Mara?”
He looked away.
“Mara was different.”
“How?”
“I liked her.”
That simple answer surprised me.
“Loved her?”
“No.”
He said it with certainty.
“But I might have, eventually.”
“What happened?”
“I didn’t believe her when it mattered.”
There was no self-pity in his voice.
Only fact.
“She told me someone was changing our contracts. I accused her of trying to renegotiate her settlement.”
“She ran.”
“She survived.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No.”
We sat quietly.
Then I asked, “Why Evelyn?”
Cassian gave a humorless smile.
“You’re determined to make me list every bad decision I’ve made.”
“I have time.”
“Your employer’s family controlled property my companies needed for a major Hudson redevelopment project.”
“So you were going to marry a woman you’d never met?”
“I had seen photographs.”
“That’s worse.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
He looked at me.
“Because I was raised to believe marriage was paperwork with a ceremony attached.”
Something in his expression made me stop teasing.
“And now?”
“Now I think I was an idiot.”
“Only now?”
That almost made him laugh.
Almost.
I leaned back.
“What happens to the wedding agreement?”
“It dies.”
“And the Aldridge deal?”
“Also dead.”
“My mother’s trust?”
“You’ll get everything that belongs to you.”
I stiffened.
“I don’t want Vale charity.”
“It isn’t.”
“You’re going to use your lawyers and money.”
“To recover what was stolen from your family.”
“Why?”
His answer came immediately.
“Because my father failed yours.”
“That isn’t your debt.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“But helping correct it is my choice.”
Choice again.
Everything with him seemed to come back to that.
The door opened.
Rebecca Sloan entered.
She looked tired.
“Charles is talking.”
Cassian stood.
“Margaret?”
“Lawyered up.”
“Victor?”
“Still missing.”
Rebecca pulled up a chair.
“We found the maintenance employee who visited Helen’s cottage.”
My hands tightened.
“Is he the man she remembered?”
“No.”
I blinked.
“Then who?”
“He says he was paid to replace Helen’s medicine.”
Cassian’s expression turned cold.
“By whom?”
“He never saw the client. Payments came through a consulting company.”
“Which one?”
Rebecca looked at me.
“Carter Medical Support.”
I laughed because the alternative was screaming.
“They used our name?”
“Yes.”
“Who owns it?”
“That’s where things become interesting.”
Rebecca placed a printed sheet on the table.
“The registered owner is Lydia Carter.”
I stared at my own name.
“That’s impossible.”
“Obviously.”
Cassian picked up the paper.
“Identity fraud.”
“Extensive identity fraud.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Someone has opened companies, accounts, and investment vehicles using Lydia’s information since she turned eighteen.”
I felt sick.
“How much money?”
“Potentially millions.”
I stared at Cassian.
“They made me part of this before today.”
“Yes.”
Rebecca continued.
“The wedding would have consolidated those assets.”
“Under Cassian?”
“On paper.”
I understood.
Then the blame would belong to him.
A perfect villain.
Rebecca leaned closer.
“But there’s something else.”
“What?”
“One company using your identity bought a warehouse fourteen months ago.”
Cassian stiffened.
“Where?”
Rebecca named an address.
He went completely still.
I noticed.
“You know it.”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“The building where my father died.”
Now Rebecca looked surprised.
“Gabriel Vale?”
Cassian nodded.
The past had just doubled back on itself.
“My father died there nine years ago.”
I whispered, “How?”
“Fire.”
Every hair on my arms lifted.
Another warehouse.
Another fire.
Two fathers.
Same building.
Cassian stared at the paperwork.
“Who owns it now?”
Rebecca said, “Lydia.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Cassian looked at me.
“Someone wants us connected.”
“Why?”
Nobody answered.
Then Rebecca’s phone rang.
She listened.
Her face changed.
“Where?”
She stood.
“Do not go inside.”
Cassian was already moving.
“What happened?”
Rebecca looked at us.
“The warehouse alarm just triggered.”
Cassian grabbed his coat.
I stood.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“I own the building, remember?”
“On fraudulent paperwork.”
“Still my name.”
“Lydia.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“Everyone has spent twenty-one years deciding what I’m allowed to know. I’m done.”
He studied me.
Then nodded.
“Stay beside me.”
At the warehouse, police lights reflected against wet pavement.
The building had been abandoned for years.
The side door stood open.
No fire.
No intruder.
Only a single light burning on the second floor.
Rebecca’s team entered first.
Twenty minutes later she waved us inside.
Dust covered everything.
Old metal shelves.
Rotting boxes.
Broken windows.
At the center of the second floor stood a table.
On it was a cassette recorder.
And one envelope.
My name was written across the front.
Lydia.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Inside was a key.
A photograph.
And a note.
The photograph showed my father.
Daniel Carter.
Holding me as a toddler.
Standing beside Gabriel Vale.
Behind them was Cassian.
Seventeen years old.
I looked at him.
He stared at the photograph.
“I remember this.”
“You met me?”
“Once.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Why didn’t you say?”
“I didn’t know the child was you.”
I unfolded the note.
Three words had been typed.
PLAY THE TAPE.
Rebecca pressed the button.
Static filled the warehouse.
Then a man’s voice.
My father’s voice.
I had not heard it since I was four.
“Gabriel, if you’re hearing this, I didn’t make it to the meeting.”
My legs nearly failed.
Cassian caught my elbow.
I let him.
The recording continued.
“The Aldridges are not acting alone.”
Cassian’s expression changed.
“There is someone inside your own house helping them.”
A pause.
“If anything happens to me, protect Helen.”
My mother’s name nearly broke me.
Then came the final sentence.
“And whatever you do, don’t trust your son’s guardian.”
Cassian went pale.
I looked at him.
“Who was your guardian?”
For the first time since I had met him, Cassian Vale looked afraid.
May you like
“Victor Hale’s father.”
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