Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
Ethan came to the hospital that afternoon.
This time, I let him in.
Not because I wanted to see him.
Because I wanted answers.
He stood near the door.
He looked exhausted.
His eyes were red.
His uniform was gone.
He wore a gray sweater and dark jeans.
For one second, I remembered the man I had married.
Then I remembered him carrying Claire.
“What do you want?” I asked.
His face tightened.
“To see you.”
“You've seen me.”
“Amelia…”
“Did you come to apologize?”
He took a step forward.
“Yes.”
“For what?”
He stared at me.
“For what happened.”
I almost laughed.
“What happened?”
“You were hurt.”
“That isn't an answer.”
He looked away.
“I was trying to help Claire.”
“You knew I was inside.”
Silence.
There it was.
The truth.
Not denial.
Not confusion.
Silence.
I stared at him.
“How long did you know?”
Ethan sat down.
“Amelia…”
“How long?”
His hands tightened.
“I found out about twenty minutes before the rescue team arrived.”
My chest tightened.
“Twenty minutes?”
“I was told the elevator had two people trapped inside.”
“You knew I was one of them?”
“Yes.”
“And you went to Claire first.”
“She was injured.”
“So was I.”
“I didn't know how badly you were hurt.”
“You didn't ask.”
His face twisted.
“I made a mistake.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You made a choice.”
He looked at me.
“That's not fair.”
I stared at him.
“Fair?”
My voice broke.
“I spent seven hours in that elevator wondering if my baby would survive. I spent seven hours believing my husband was coming. Then the doors opened, and you carried another woman out first.”
He looked down.
“I was scared.”
“For her?”
He didn't answer.
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
He looked up.
“For what?”
“For finally telling me the truth.”
He stood.
“Amelia, I never wanted to hurt you.”
“But you did.”
“I love you.”
The words came too late.
I stared at him.
“Do you love Claire?”
His face changed.
That was all the answer I needed.
I turned toward the window.
“Leave.”
“Amelia.”
“Leave.”
He didn't move.
I looked at him.
“If you don't leave, I'll call security.”
He slowly walked toward the door.
Before he left, he turned.
“I never slept with her.”
I stared at him.
“That's supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because it's true.”
I looked at him.
“Then why did she tell me you were the father of her baby?”
His face went completely white.
I smiled without humor.
“That's right.”
He stared at me.
“How did you know?”
“Claire came to see me.”
His jaw tightened.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“What did she say?”
“That she's pregnant.”
He looked away.
“And?”
“She said the baby was yours.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
I watched him carefully.
“Is it?”
He said nothing.
I nodded.
“Leave.”
This time, he did.
The next morning, Claire called me.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“Why?”
Her breathing was uneven.
“I need to see you.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Claire, whatever you want to say—”
“I know about the money.”
I went silent.
She continued.
“Your husband has been moving money through my family's company.”
I sat up.
“How do you know?”
“Because my father is the one who arranged it.”
My heart began pounding.
“What money?”
“You don't know?”
“No.”
Claire exhaled.
“Then you are in more danger than I thought.”
I gripped the phone.
“Explain.”
“I can't over the phone.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't know who is listening.”
A cold feeling moved through me.
“Claire, if this is some kind of game—”
“It isn't.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“You slept with my husband.”
“No.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“I never slept with Ethan.”
I stared at the wall.
“Then why did you let me believe you did?”
“Because he wanted you to believe it.”
The room became silent.
I whispered, “Why?”
Claire's voice broke.
“Because your husband needed you angry.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Why?”
“Because if you were angry enough to leave him…”
She stopped.
“Then he could take control of everything.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What everything?”
Claire whispered the words.
“The Carter-Wells Foundation.”
I froze.
My husband's foundation.
The foundation I had helped create.
The foundation funded by my late mother's estate.
The foundation that had grown into a multimillion-dollar organization.
I had always believed Ethan was its president because he was brilliant.
Because he knew finance.
Because he had built the organization with me.
But the truth was…
My mother had left the controlling shares to me.
Not Ethan.
Me.
And if I divorced him…
He could lose everything.
Unless he could prove I was mentally unstable.
Unless he could prove I had abandoned the marriage.
Unless he could make me look like the emotional, jealous wife who had destroyed her own family.
I whispered, “Why are you telling me this?”
Claire was silent.
Then she said:
“Because my father is planning to kill your reputation.”
I stared at the phone.
May you like
“And Ethan?”
“He is helping him.”
