Chapter 3 - Six Wives and Seven Lies
By evening, three stories about the failed wedding had already appeared online.
None contained my name.
Every one contained Cassian’s.
MAFIA HEIR ABANDONED AT ALTAR.
VALE WEDDING COLLAPSES IN SECRET CEREMONY.
MYSTERY BRIDE DISAPPEARS AFTER HUDSON CHAPEL DRAMA.
I sat in a quiet guest room at Cassian Vale’s estate watching strangers invent my life.
My mother slept in a room downstairs after being discharged from the hospital.
Her cardiologist had insisted she avoid stress.
Considering the day we'd had, that seemed optimistic.
Cassian's estate wasn't what I expected.
No dark stone fortress.
No dungeon.
No armed men standing every six feet.
It was an old Hudson Valley mansion built of pale gray stone, with enormous windows, gardens, a library spanning two floors and enough security cameras to make escaping unnoticed nearly impossible.
The last detail bothered me.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed when someone knocked.
“Come in.”
A woman in her sixties entered carrying folded clothes.
“I’m Nora.”
“Housekeeper?”
She smiled.
“Estate manager. Cassian refuses to let me call myself a housekeeper because he says I frighten him too much.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
She placed the clothes on a chair.
“These should fit.”
“I have my own uniform.”
“I know.”
Her eyes softened.
“You don't work here, Lydia.”
The sentence hurt more than it should have.
Because I realized I didn't know who I was when I wasn't working for someone.
Nora seemed to understand.
“Dinner is downstairs whenever you're ready.”
“Is Cassian there?”
“Yes.”
I hesitated.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask.”
“Whether I'll answer is another matter.”
Fair.
“How long have you worked for him?”
“Since he was fourteen.”
“Then you knew all six wives.”
Nora's expression changed.
There it was.
The question everyone wanted answered.
“What have you heard?”
“One fled to California.”
“True.”
“One moved overseas.”
“Also true.”
“Two divorces were sealed.”
“Yes.”
“The sixth ran barefoot out of this house in winter.”
Nora sighed.
“Technically true.”
I stared.
“That isn't reassuring.”
“It isn't supposed to be.”
She sat in the chair near the window.
“You've heard facts without context.”
“Then give me context.”
“That isn't my story to tell.”
“Convenient.”
“Yes.”
Her directness caught me off guard.
“But I can tell you this. Cassian has never struck a woman. He has never imprisoned a woman. And every one of his former wives is alive.”
“That is an extremely low standard.”
Nora laughed.
“I like you.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She stood.
“Ask him.”
At dinner, I did.
Cassian sat at the head of a long table while Mateo worked through messages beside him.
My mother had eaten upstairs.
I took the chair opposite Cassian.
“Why six wives?”
Mateo stopped typing.
Cassian slowly put down his fork.
“That's direct.”
“Nora said to ask you.”
“Nora enjoys my suffering.”
“Did one run barefoot out of this house?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the car sent for her hadn't arrived.”
I waited.
“That explains the barefoot part, not the running.”
“She was terrified.”
“Of you?”
“No.”
“How do I know?”
“You don't.”
That answer again.
No demand that I trust him.
No performance.
Just truth.
“What was her name?”
“Elena.”
“What happened?”
Cassian leaned back.
“She testified against her brother.”
I frowned.
“What does that have to do with marrying you?”
“Her brother worked for people who would have killed her if they believed she was unprotected.”
“So you married her?”
“For nine months.”
“That sounds insane.”
“It was.”
“Were you in love?”
“No.”
“Was she?”
“No.”
Mateo suddenly became fascinated by his phone.
Cassian continued.
“The marriage gave her my name, security and legal standing that complicated attempts to reach her.”
“And then?”
“She entered a federal witness program.”
I stared.
“That’s the woman who supposedly escaped overseas?”
“No. That was Sofia.”
“Of course there’s another.”
Something almost like amusement appeared in his eyes.
“Sofia's father owed money to people who intended to collect from her instead.”
“And you married her too?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because at twenty-four I thought marriage was a simple way to make people untouchable.”
“And was it?”
“No.”
That answer carried weight.
“What happened to her?”
“She eventually married a dentist in Portugal.”
I blinked.
“A dentist?”
“Yes.”
“That's disappointingly normal.”
“He makes excellent paella.”
“You visit?”
“Once.”
This was not the monster from the rumors.
That worried me almost as much as if he had been.
Because monsters were easier.
You knew what to do with monsters.
You ran.
“What about the woman in California?”
Cassian’s expression closed.
“Isabel.”
“What happened?”
“She hated me.”
“Finally, something believable.”
Mateo coughed to hide a laugh.
Cassian gave him a look.
I continued.
“And the sealed divorces?”
“Complicated.”
“How convenient.”
“Yes.”
His gaze sharpened.
“You're asking because you want to know whether you're safe.”
“Yes.”
“You are.”
“You understand your word isn't enough.”
“Yes.”
Again.
No offense.
No wounded pride.
I folded my arms.
“Then why do people say these things about you?”
“Because some stories are useful.”
“To whom?”
“Sometimes me.”
That answer chilled me.
“You let women believe you're dangerous?”
“I let men believe I'm dangerous.”
“And women hear it too.”
“Yes.”
“That's irresponsible.”
“Yes.”
He had an infuriating habit of refusing to defend himself from criticism.
Mateo’s phone buzzed.
He checked it.
“Richard Hale used a private airstrip two hours ago.”
Cassian shifted immediately.
“Destination?”
“Flight plan says Montreal.”
“Real destination?”
“We're working on it.”
I leaned forward.
“Margaret?”
“Not on the manifest.”
“Charles?”
“No.”
“Then where are they?”
Mateo looked grim.
“We don't know.”
Cassian turned to me.
“Richard took your father's records. That makes him priority.”
“And Evelyn?”
“We're still looking.”
I thought about the forty thousand dollars.
“Why did she take money from my trust?”
Mateo answered.
“She didn't personally access it.”
“What?”
“The transaction went to an investigator.”
“An investigator?”
“Daniel Cross. Former state financial crimes officer.”
“Why would Evelyn hire him?”
Cassian looked at me.
“Maybe she discovered something.”
“About my father?”
“Possibly.”
I stood.
“Then find Cross.”
“We're trying.”
“Try harder.”
Mateo raised one eyebrow.
Cassian's mouth almost moved.
I pointed at him.
“Don't smile.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“I was.”
His phone rang.
This time he answered.
“Vale.”
Silence.
Then his expression became unreadable.
“Put her through.”
He stood and walked toward the windows.
I watched.
“Who is it?” I whispered.
Mateo's face had changed too.
He didn't answer.
Cassian listened for nearly a minute.
Then said, “Where are you?”
Another silence.
“No. Don't go anywhere. I'll send—”
The call ended.
Cassian stared at the phone.
I stood.
“Who was that?”
He looked at me.
“Isabel.”
“The wife who fled to California?”
“Yes.”
“Why is she calling now?”
Cassian's jaw tightened.
“Because she saw the news.”
“And?”
“She says the Aldridges tried this before.”
My skin prickled.
“Tried what?”
Cassian looked directly at me.
“Putting the wrong woman into one of my marriages.”
Nobody spoke.
I felt the floor shift beneath me again.
“What does that mean?”
“She wouldn't explain by phone.”
“When can we talk to her?”
Cassian checked the time.
“She’s flying here tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because, according to Isabel, she didn’t leave me because she was afraid of me.”
I waited.
His expression hardened.
“She left because Margaret Aldridge threatened to kill her sister if she didn't.”
The room went completely silent.
And suddenly the story of Cassian Vale's six broken marriages was no longer gossip.
May you like
It was evidence.
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