Chapter 4 - The Woman I Thought I Knew
I called Tessa seventeen times before she answered.
Mercer had warned me not to contact her.
I ignored him.
Some habits are harder to break than others, especially the habit of believing you can control a situation simply by demanding answers.
"Grant?"
Her voice sounded breathless.
"Are you alone?"
"Where are you?"
"Answer my question."
I looked at Mercer, who stood across the room speaking to another officer.
"Yes."
"That's a lie."
My blood chilled.
"What?"
"You're standing in your living room. There are three police cars outside. A detective in a gray coat is near your staircase."
I slowly turned toward the windows.
The curtains were open.
Someone was watching the house.
"How do you know that?"
"Because the people watching you are also watching me."
"Who?"
"Don't say anything else over the phone."
"Tessa, what second baby?"
Silence.
Then I heard her inhale sharply.
"Where did you hear that?"
"Someone sent me a message."
"What did it say?"
"Ask Tessa about the second baby."
A muffled sound came through the line.
She was crying.
I had seen Tessa angry, seductive, jealous, and manipulative.
I had never heard her cry like that.
"Grant, I need you to understand something."
"What?"
"I didn't know about Owen when this started."
I frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
"Not our affair. The company."
"The company?"
"Westbridge."
I gripped the phone.
"Tell me everything."
"I can't."
"Then I'm going to the police."
"They won't be able to protect you."
"From whom?"
She hesitated.
Then she whispered a name.
"Richard Vale."
I knew Richard Vale.
Everyone in Nashville's commercial real estate industry knew him.
He was the founder of Vale Capital Partners, a private investment firm that had financed several of my largest developments.
He was sixty-two, silver-haired, impeccably dressed, and famous for donating millions to hospitals.
He had been at my wedding.
He had held Owen at his baptism.
He had once called me the son he never had.
"Richard?" I whispered.
"Yes."
"That's impossible."
"That's what I thought."
I closed my eyes.
"What does he have to do with Westbridge?"
"Everything."
Before I could ask another question, she said something that made me go cold.
"Grant, Richard doesn't own Westbridge on paper."
"Then who does?"
"Corinne."
I stopped breathing.
"That's impossible."
"Her name is on the ownership documents."
"She would never—"
"She didn't know."
I looked toward the envelope.
Forged signatures.
Unauthorized transfers.
A company operating under my wife's identity.
My mind began racing.
"How long?"
"Almost eighteen months."
"How much money?"
Tessa said nothing.
"How much?"
"More than twenty million."
I felt physically sick.
"Where did it come from?"
"Construction loans. Investor funds. Escrow accounts."
"From my company?"
"Some of it."
I staggered toward the sofa.
My company had borrowed heavily to finance a luxury mixed-use project outside Franklin.
Richard had arranged the financing.
I had signed the documents.
I had trusted him.
"What did you do, Tessa?"
She began crying harder.
"I introduced the accounts. I handled some of the transfers. I thought it was tax planning."
"You signed the authorization."
"Richard told me it was legal."
"And you believed him?"
"Just like you did."
The answer silenced me.
Then I remembered the message.
"The second baby."
Her breathing stopped.
"Tessa?"
"Please don't make me tell you this over the phone."
"Tell me."
A long silence followed.
Then she whispered, "I was pregnant last year."
I sat down.
"What?"
"I found out in October."
October.
We had been together for almost five months.
"You never told me."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because Richard found out first."
My stomach turned.
"What happened?"
"He told me I had to choose."
"Choose what?"
"The baby or the arrangement."
I stared at the wall.
"What arrangement?"
She didn't answer.
"Tessa."
Her voice became barely audible.
"Richard paid me to get close to you."
The words seemed to hang in the air.
I had imagined our affair as something reckless and selfish.
A secret relationship between two people who couldn't resist each other.
Now I understood that I had been selected.
Studied.
Manipulated.
"How much?"
"Grant—"
"HOW MUCH DID HE PAY YOU?"
"Two hundred thousand dollars."
I closed my eyes.
The woman I had betrayed my wife for had been paid to seduce me.
And I had mistaken the attention for love.
"Did you have the baby?"
"No."
"What happened?"
"I lost the pregnancy."
Her voice broke.
I sat motionless.
"I'm sorry," I said automatically.
She gave a bitter laugh.
"Don't be sorry for me. Be sorry for Corinne."
"What does she have to do with it?"
"Richard wanted access to her family trust."
I frowned.
"Corinne doesn't have a family trust."
"Yes, Grant. She does."
I stared.
"Her grandfather left her controlling interests in several parcels of commercial land."
"She told me those properties were tied up in probate."
"Richard helped settle the estate."
A terrible realization began forming.
"And then?"
"He used her ownership documents to secure loans."
"Without her permission?"
"Yes."
I pressed my hand against my forehead.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because by the time I understood what was happening, Richard had enough evidence to send both of us to prison."
My mouth went dry.
"What evidence?"
"Your signatures."
"They're legitimate?"
"Some of them."
I remembered the papers I'd signed without reading.
The late-night meetings.
Richard's assistant placing documents in front of me.
Tessa smiling as she poured another drink.
I had been arrogant enough to believe that important men didn't need to read every page.
Now I understood how expensive that arrogance could become.
"Where is Corinne?" I asked.
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"I swear."
"Then why did someone burn her car?"
Tessa began breathing rapidly.
"Because Leonard Pike found the original records."
"Richard killed him?"
"I don't know."
"Did Richard send someone to my house?"
"I don't know."
"Stop saying that!"
"Grant, listen to me."
Her voice sharpened.
"Richard is holding a private meeting tomorrow morning."
"Where?"
"At his estate."
"Why?"
"Because the accounts are being frozen."
"By whom?"
"Someone filed a federal complaint."
I looked toward the envelope.
Corinne.
Of course.
Tessa continued.
"Richard thinks you helped her."
I almost laughed.
"I didn't even know she was gone."
"That won't matter."
"Then what do I do?"
"Get away from Nashville."
"And leave my son?"
Silence.
Then Tessa whispered, "There's something else."
"What?"
"Richard has a photograph."
"Of what?"
"Corinne and Owen."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"Where?"
"I saw it yesterday."
"Where was it taken?"
"At a house."
"What house?"
"I don't know."
"Tessa!"
She began crying again.
"There was a woman holding Owen."
"Who?"
"I only saw her from behind."
I pressed the phone so hard against my ear that it hurt.
"Was Corinne there?"
"No."
My chest tightened.
"Then where was she?"
May you like
Tessa whispered the answer.
"She was tied to a chair."
