Chapter 13 - The Other Woman
I thought Brooke was going to tell me about money.
I was wrong.
“Ryan has been seeing someone,” she said.
The lobby seemed to tilt.
Diane closed her eyes.
Of course she knew too.
“How long?” I asked.
Brooke stared at the carpet. “At least eight months.”
I laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because there are moments when pain becomes absurd from sheer volume.
“Who?”
“Her name is Madison Vale. She works for one of Dad’s lenders.”
Martin looked sharply at Brooke. “Which lender?”
“Hawthorne Private Capital.”
Victor stood up. “That’s the bridge lender.”
Everything connected.
The fake transfer. The forged incapacity affidavit. The collateral package. Ryan’s affair with someone inside the lender.
I asked Brooke, “Did she know he was married?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know I was pregnant?”
Brooke’s silence answered again.
I sat back.
Strangely, that betrayal hurt differently.
The financial crimes made me furious.
The affair made me feel stupid.
I hated that.
I hated that after everything else, some primitive part of me still whispered: Was I not enough?
Then I remembered Ryan’s second phone.
Martin must have had the same thought.
“If police obtain a warrant for that device, Madison may be in the messages.”
Victor nodded. “If she helped structure the loan, she may also be exposed.”
Brooke touched my arm. “Claire, I’m sorry.”
I pulled away gently.
“I believe you’re sorry.”
She started crying.
“That’s not the same as trusting you.”
She nodded.
The detective handling the case came into the lobby and asked to speak with me privately.
He introduced himself as Detective Aaron Bell.
“Mrs. Mercer, your husband is asking for an attorney.”
“That sounds wise.”
“He also says the documents were your idea.”
I stared at him.
Bell continued. “He says you were planning an aggressive tax strategy and that the family misunderstood your instructions.”
I almost admired the speed of the lie.
“Detective, I have a board meeting recording from last month where I rejected using personal real estate as corporate collateral.”
Martin smiled faintly. “And we have the minutes.”
Bell nodded. “Good.”
Then he added, “There is one complication.”
“What?”
“Your husband claims you struck him tonight.”
I blinked.
He lifted a hand. “I’m not saying I believe him. But he has a bruise on his foot.”
My heel.
The move that freed me.
Ryan was turning self-defense into an accusation.
May you like
And he had done it before I had even left the building.
The House He Thought Was His
