Chapter 8 - The Woman Who Worked for My Husband
Vanessa Reed arrived at Rebecca's office carrying a brown leather folder.
She was forty-one, with dark hair cut just below her shoulders and the cautious expression of someone who'd spent years avoiding a conversation.
She looked at me for several seconds.
Then said, “I'm sorry.”
I didn't answer immediately.
I'd heard those words so often lately that I no longer knew what to do with them.
“For what?” I asked.
Vanessa sat down.
“For believing Eric.”
My stomach tightened.
“Were you involved with him?”
She nodded.
“Briefly. Years ago.”
I closed my eyes.
Another woman.
Another betrayal.
But I'd stopped counting them.
Vanessa opened her folder.
“I didn't come here to discuss our relationship. I came because I worked in Merritt's accounts department when the business was first established.”
I nodded.
“Then tell me what you know.”
She slid a photograph across the table.
Two men stood outside an office building.
Eric.
Victor.
Both smiling.
The timestamp placed it eleven years earlier.
I stared.
“Eric told me they met seven years ago.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“They knew each other long before that.”
“What were they doing?”
“Trying to raise private investment capital.”
I looked up.
“For what?”
“Small property acquisitions at first.”
She hesitated.
“Then larger developments.”
I studied her.
“Were those legitimate?”
“Some were. But certain representations and transactions concerned me.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“What did you observe?”
Vanessa opened the folder.
She'd preserved copies of correspondence, payroll documents, and company records from her employment.
Rebecca reviewed them carefully.
No one treated Vanessa's word as proof of every allegation.
But her records corroborated several details we'd already uncovered.
The original Merritt office.
Victor's early involvement.
Payments to Natalie.
And internal discussions about possible funding from my trust.
I stared at one email.
Its date was six weeks before my wedding.
The sender was Eric.
The recipient was Victor.
The subject line read:
BENNETT FUNDING.
I swallowed.
Rebecca read the message aloud.
“Claire doesn't want the trust involved. Once we're married, I'll discuss it with her again.”
She paused.
Then read the final sentence.
“If she still refuses, we'll need another arrangement.”
I felt cold.
I remembered the conversation.
Eric had asked whether my investments could support his first business expansion.
I'd said no.
Not because I didn't believe in him.
Because I'd worked years to build those assets and wanted to keep business risks separate from our marriage.
He'd kissed my forehead.
Told me he understood.
Promised never to pressure me.
Then he'd written this email.
I stared at the screen.
“He knew I said no.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Yes.”
Vanessa looked ashamed.
“I thought you'd changed your mind.”
I turned toward her.
“Why?”
“Because Eric told us you were supporting the business.”
I closed my eyes.
“He used my name?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever meet me?”
“No.”
She hesitated.
“Not until today.”
I looked at her.
“And Natalie?”
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
“She joined Merritt about two years after your wedding.”
That resolved one part of the timeline.
Natalie had known Eric and Victor before our marriage.
But her documented paid role in the company began later.
Then, years after that, she began sleeping with Eric.
I looked at the payroll records.
“Did Natalie know the money was coming from my accounts?”
Vanessa took a slow breath.
“I can't say what she understood at first. But she handled summaries listing transfers associated with the Bennett trust.”
My chest tightened.
“She saw my name?”
“Yes.”
“And she knew I wasn't attending those meetings?”
“Yes.”
I stared at the table.
For years, Natalie had borrowed money from me while secretly being paid by a company supported through transactions involving my financial information.
The same sister who complained that I enjoyed making her feel inferior had been hiding the source of her own income.
I looked up.
“Why did you leave Merritt?”
Vanessa's expression changed.
“Because I started asking questions.”
“What questions?”
“About investor money. About authorizations. About discrepancies between account summaries.”
“And Eric?”
“He told me I was making ordinary business activity sound suspicious.”
I almost laughed.
I'd heard that phrase before.
Ordinary business.
Routine paperwork.
Temporary transfer.
Vanessa continued.
“Then Victor told me I could either trust the company or resign.”
“What did you do?”
“I resigned.”
I stared at her.
“Why didn't you report it?”
She lowered her eyes.
“I was ashamed. And I didn't know enough to prove the worst things I suspected.”
Rebecca asked whether Vanessa had since contacted investigators.
She nodded.
“My attorney arranged it.”
Good.
At least one person had decided to stop protecting the lies.
Then Vanessa slid another document across the table.
A preliminary funding proposal.
At the top was the name:
BENNETT FAMILY CAPITAL PLAN.
I stared.
My surname.
My family's assets.
A business proposal I'd never approved.
The document was dated two months before my wedding.
I read the paragraph describing proposed financing.
It referred to Eric's expected marital relationship with a beneficiary of substantial family-held assets.
I looked up.
“He didn't even use my first name.”
Vanessa said nothing.
I looked back at the document.
I wasn't Claire.
I was a beneficiary.
A source of capital.
A financial opportunity.
For a moment, the room blurred.
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
Rebecca waited.
Then said softly, “Claire, take your time.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
I looked at Vanessa.
“I need to know something.”
She nodded.
“When Eric proposed to me, did Victor already know about my finances?”
Vanessa looked down.
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“Did they discuss the marriage as part of the funding plan?”
She hesitated.
“I heard them discuss how marriage might make Eric's involvement in your financial affairs easier.”
The words landed like stones.
I sat still.
Then asked the question that had haunted me since the anniversary.
“Did Eric marry me for money?”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“I don't know what was in his heart.”
I looked away.
I appreciated the honesty.
And hated the uncertainty.
Because there would never be a document proving whether Eric loved me when he proposed.
Only evidence of what he'd been willing to do behind my back.
Vanessa closed the folder.
“There's something else.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“Natalie was at Merritt before she officially worked there.”
My heartbeat quickened.
“When?”
“Before your wedding.”
I stared.
“Doing what?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“She came to the office with Eric one afternoon. I remember because Victor was upset she was there.”
I leaned forward.
“Why?”
“He said family members shouldn't be involved.”
I almost laughed.
That was rich coming from Victor.
Then Vanessa spoke again.
“But Eric told him Natalie could help with something.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
Vanessa looked directly at me.
“Getting access to documents they couldn't ask you for.”
I stared at her.
My mind moved backward.
Charleston.
Our wedding weekend.
My hotel room.
The financial folder I kept in my suitcase.
Natalie offering to carry something to Eric.
I stopped breathing.
“Did they ask her to take papers from me?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I wasn't present for that conversation.”
But the possibility was suddenly impossible to ignore.
That afternoon, I left Rebecca's office carrying copies of documents and a question I couldn't escape.
Had Natalie been helping Eric before our marriage even began?
My phone rang as I reached the street.
Natalie.
I answered.
“Claire?”
Her voice was shaking.
“We need to talk.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did you take financial documents from my hotel room before my wedding?”
Silence.
Then a small, broken sound.
I leaned against the building.
“Natalie.”
She whispered, “I thought it was for a surprise.”
My heart stopped.
“What did you take?”
She began crying.
“Your folder.”
I closed my eyes.
The last piece fell into place.
May you like
And the next words out of her mouth were worse.
“Victor was waiting in Eric's suite.”
