Chapter 13 - The Night Adrian Begged Me to Save Him
At first, I thought Adrian had fled.
It seemed like the most logical explanation.
He had lost control of the board.
The trust transfers were restricted.
His attorney was cooperating with investigators.
And his mother was suddenly accusing him of taking money.
Running away was exactly what the old Adrian would have done.
But that night, my phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
I answered cautiously.
"Hello?"
For several seconds, there was only breathing.
Then a familiar voice whispered, "Claire."
My entire body went cold.
"Adrian?"
"Please don't hang up."
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Then why are you calling?"
He hesitated.
"Because I need your help."
I almost laughed.
He had left me in a storm without money or a phone.
And now he was asking me for help.
"What happened?"
"My mother."
I went still.
"What about her?"
"She's blaming me for everything."
I closed my eyes.
"Adrian, you're responsible for your own actions."
"I know."
The answer surprised me.
"I know I hurt you."
I gripped the phone.
"Then explain the forged documents."
He was silent.
"Adrian."
"I knew about some of the transfers."
My stomach tightened.
"Some?"
"I signed financing papers."
"Using my trust?"
"Yes."
I shut my eyes.
"Without my permission?"
He didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
"Why?"
"Because the company was collapsing."
"And you thought stealing from me would save it?"
"I thought I could replace the money before you found out."
I felt a terrible sadness.
Not for him.
For the woman I had been when I still believed every promise he made.
"How much?"
He hesitated.
"Claire—"
"How much of my father's money did you take?"
"Approximately nine million."
I closed my eyes.
Nine million dollars.
He said it as if he were admitting to an overdue credit-card payment.
"And the forged signature?"
"I didn't physically write it."
"But you knew."
Silence.
"Adrian."
"Yes."
The word was almost inaudible.
I took a slow breath.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because Mother is going to say I controlled Bellwether."
"Did you?"
"No."
"Can you prove it?"
"I have records."
I sat straighter.
"What records?"
"Original communications."
"Where?"
"Somewhere safe."
"Then give them to investigators."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because the records also show what I did."
I felt anger rise.
"You don't want to tell the truth unless it protects you."
"Claire, please."
"No."
"You don't understand."
"I understand perfectly."
His breathing became uneven.
"Mother has been moving money through my companies for years."
I listened.
"She controlled the accounts."
"Then why did you help her?"
"Because she told me the business would be mine."
My heart sank.
There it was.
The truth beneath every expensive watch.
Every boastful dinner.
Every late-night meeting.
Adrian had traded my trust for his mother's promise of power.
"Did you know about my mother?"
He fell silent.
"Adrian."
His voice changed.
"I found something in Mother's safe."
"What?"
"A letter."
"From whom?"
"Richard."
My pulse quickened.
"What did it say?"
He swallowed.
"That he wanted to tell the authorities what Vivian had done."
I stopped breathing.
"What had she done?"
"I don't know all of it."
"Read me the letter."
"I don't have it with me."
"Where is it?"
He hesitated.
Then whispered, "Claire, I didn't know what she was capable of."
I felt cold.
"Then give everything to your lawyer and the investigators."
"Will you help me?"
I stared at the darkness outside my window.
"Help you do what?"
"Tell them I wasn't the one making decisions."
I shook my head.
"You were an adult, Adrian."
"Claire—"
"You knew my signature was being used."
"I did."
"You knew money was disappearing."
"Yes."
"You left me alone in the rain because I discovered it."
He began to cry.
Or made a convincing sound.
I couldn't tell anymore.
"Please."
I closed my eyes.
"Tell the truth, Adrian."
"Will you stand beside me?"
"No."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then he whispered, "You used to love me."
I felt tears rise.
"Yes."
My voice broke.
"I did."
For a moment, I remembered our wedding.
The flowers.
The music.
The promises.
The man who had looked into my eyes and told me I would never face anything alone.
Then I remembered the bus stop.
"That's why this hurts."
He said nothing.
"But loving someone doesn't require me to lie for them."
I ended the call.
Immediately afterward, I contacted Rebecca and provided the call details.
There was no triumph in what I had heard.
Only grief.
Adrian had finally admitted enough to destroy the version of our marriage I once believed in.
The next morning, news broke that Adrian had voluntarily appeared with legal counsel.
He had provided investigators with records relating to Bellwether and the trust transactions.
An arrest was not automatically the same as a conviction.
A confession did not resolve every allegation.
And I understood that any criminal proceedings could take years.
But the silence was beginning to break.
That afternoon, Rebecca received confirmation that investigators had recovered a document believed to be Richard Vale's original letter.
I asked whether I could read it.
She shook her head.
"Not yet."
"Why?"
"Because it may be evidence."
I nodded.
I was learning patience.
Not the silence Adrian had demanded.
A different kind.
The patience necessary to let facts become proof.
Three days later, I received another call.
This time from Hannah.
"Claire, the court has scheduled your preliminary divorce hearing."
I closed my eyes.
"Thank you."
"And one more thing."
"What?"
"Vivian's attorney has filed a claim seeking to characterize part of your trust as marital property."
I felt a familiar wave of disbelief.
"She isn't even a party to my marriage."
"Her counsel is acting through related civil claims and assertions connected to Adrian's interests."
"Can they take it?"
"We will contest the claims."
I looked at the picture of my parents on the desk.
For the first time, I didn't feel afraid of losing everything.
I knew what I was fighting for.
Then Hannah said, "Claire, you need to know who is listed as a proposed witness supporting the claims."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
May you like
She paused.
"Lila Morgan."
