Chapter 3 - THE HUSBAND WHO CAME TOO LATE|
Samuel pushed Catherine toward a narrow stairwell at the rear of the basement.
"Go."
"What about you?"
"I'll be right behind you."
She knew the lie when she heard it.
"Samuel—"
"Your husband can replace a driver. He cannot replace the only woman who knows what is in that folder."
A gunshot cracked through the house.
Catherine ran.
She emerged into the wet garden and stumbled toward the street, clutching the folder against her chest. Headlights appeared beyond the trees.
For one terrible second, she thought the men had circled around.
Then a black SUV stopped beside her.
Gabriel Voss opened the passenger door.
"Get in."
She hesitated.
"Samuel is inside."
"Two of my men are getting him out."
"How do you know where I am?"
"Your father's old property has been watched for three months."
Catherine climbed in.
"By whom?"
"People who suspect the Baloris are hiding something."
The SUV pulled away as two dark vehicles entered the driveway behind them.
Gabriel handed her a towel.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"My husband sent armed men into a house to retrieve me."
"Then perhaps we should revise the answer."
She looked at him sharply.
"Did you know my father?"
Gabriel's expression changed.
"I knew of him."
"That isn't what I asked."
He kept his eyes on the road.
"Your father discovered that someone was diverting money from Bennett Freight through shell companies. He tried to report it."
"To the police?"
"To the people he believed could stop it."
"Who killed him?"
Gabriel did not answer immediately.
"I don't know whether he was murdered. I know the investigation into his death was closed unusually quickly."
Catherine looked down at the folder.
Her father had spent the last year of his life terrified of losing the business. He had told her that the stress was destroying his health. She had believed him.
She had not known he was afraid of someone else.
"Why didn't you tell me this at the gala?"
"Because I wasn't sure you were ready to hear it."
"That's convenient."
"Truth often is."
They reached a discreet medical clinic on the outskirts of Charlotte. A woman named Dr. Lena Brooks examined Catherine while Gabriel waited outside.
The baby's heartbeat remained strong.
Catherine cried for the first time that night.
Not because she was frightened, but because she had spent the entire day hoping to share that sound with Matteo.
When she emerged, Gabriel stood beside a vending machine holding two cups of coffee.
"Black or with cream?" he asked.
She almost smiled.
"You don't know me."
"I know you haven't eaten."
He handed her a sandwich instead.
Catherine sat in the empty waiting room and opened her mother's folder again.
Among the documents was a letter dated four days before her father's death.
The handwriting was unmistakably his.
Claire, if you ever read this, it means I failed to protect you from the people who wanted our company. I thought accepting their money would buy us time. I was wrong.
She read the paragraph twice.
At the bottom, he had written a name.
Daniel Mercer.
Matteo's father.
Gabriel watched her face.
"You know what that means?"
"It means my marriage wasn't the beginning of this."
"No."
"It means Matteo's family was involved before I ever met him."
"Possibly."
Catherine folded the letter carefully.
"Take me to Matteo."
Gabriel stared at her.
"That's the worst idea you've had tonight."
"He needs to answer for this."
"And if he lies?"
"Then I'll know."
Gabriel's phone rang.
He listened without speaking, then lowered it.
"Samuel is alive. Your husband's security team found him, but he escaped through the rear garden. He's at a safe location."
Relief weakened Catherine's knees.
"Thank God."
"There's something else."
Gabriel turned the phone toward her.
A live news broadcast showed Matteo leaving the Bellevue ballroom with Celeste beside him. Reporters shouted questions about the waterfront project.
One reporter asked whether the rumors about his marriage were true.
Matteo stopped.
He looked directly into the cameras.
"My wife is unwell," he said. "She is receiving private medical care, and I ask the public to respect her privacy."
Catherine went cold.
He knew about her pregnancy.
He had just announced to the world that she was unwell without saying why.
Then the reporter asked about Celeste.
Matteo placed his hand on her back.
"Ms. Arden is an important partner in our foundation."
Catherine turned away.
Gabriel's voice was quiet.
"There's one more thing you should know."
He opened a second photograph.
It showed Enzo Balori standing outside the medical records office that afternoon.
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Beside him was Dr. Priya Shaw, Catherine's obstetrician.
And in Enzo's hand was a sealed envelope bearing Catherine's full name.
