Chapter 12 - THE FILE WITH HER NAME ON IT
Z
Emily stared at the folder.
EMILY ANNE CARTER.
Her full name.
Printed neatly across the front.
Noah looked confused.
“Mom, what is that?”
Catherine’s expression tightened.
Grant looked delighted.
“Your father’s idea of romance.”
Emily did not touch the folder.
“What’s inside?”
“Background reports. Medical history. College records. Former boyfriends. Financial statements.”
Her stomach turned.
“Liam ordered that?”
“Ask him.”
“You’re the one showing it to me.”
Grant smiled.
“Always smart.”
Emily looked at Noah.
“We’re leaving.”
Grant moved slightly.
Not enough to touch her.
Enough to block.
Emily heard Liam’s voice from the doorway.
“Move.”
Everyone froze.
Grant turned.
Liam stood there alone.
His face was calm.
His eyes were not.
“You were supposed to stay outside,” Emily said.
“I changed my mind.”
“Of course you did.”
Noah moved quickly toward his father.
Catherine grabbed his wrist.
Liam’s expression turned deadly.
“Take your hand off him.”
Catherine released Noah.
Noah crossed the room.
Grant laughed.
“This is touching.”
Liam ignored him.
He looked at Emily.
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
Then he saw the folder.
Something in his face changed.
Emily noticed.
That was all she needed.
“You know what this is.”
“Yes.”
Her stomach dropped.
Grant smiled.
“I’ll let the newlyweds talk.”
Liam looked at him.
“You’re finished.”
“So you keep saying.”
Grant and Catherine walked toward another exit.
Liam’s security men appeared outside.
Catherine stopped.
“You can’t hold me.”
“No,” Liam said. “But you can explain to police why you removed our son from school and brought him to property owned by a man under investigation for corporate fraud.”
Her face changed.
Grant’s smile faded.
Liam looked at Noah.
“Do you want charges filed against your mother?”
Noah went pale.
Liam immediately softened.
“You don’t have to answer now.”
Emily watched him.
Even now.
Choice.
Noah whispered, “I just want to go home.”
Liam nodded.
“All right.”
The drive back was silent.
Noah rode in another car with Margaret.
Emily sat beside Liam.
The folder lay between them.
Finally she said, “Tell me.”
He looked out the window.
“I had you investigated.”
“When?”
“After the first meeting with your father.”
“Six months before the proposal?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was interested in you.”
Emily stared.
“That is not romantic.”
“I know.”
“It’s creepy.”
“Yes.”
“You investigated my medical history?”
“No.”
“Grant said—”
“Grant lies.”
She opened the folder.
Employment.
College.
Public records.
Credit report.
Social media.
Her mother’s obituary.
Photographs of Emily entering a café.
Leaving the hospital where her mother had received treatment years earlier.
Her skin crawled.
“You had people follow me.”
“For three days.”
“Why?”
“To determine whether anyone connected to Grant was approaching you.”
“What?”
Liam turned toward her.
“After I showed interest, Grant asked my assistant questions about you.”
Emily remembered the email.
Your daughter could be useful. Liam notices her.
“So you thought I was being targeted.”
“Yes.”
“And instead of telling me, you secretly watched me.”
“Yes.”
She closed the folder.
“Do you understand how bad this looks?”
“Yes.”
“Do you understand how it feels?”
His jaw tightened.
“I think so.”
“No. I don’t think you do.”
Emily looked out the window.
Every private coffee.
Every walk.
Every ordinary day.
Someone might have been watching.
“I need space.”
Liam’s voice became quiet.
“All right.”
“No argument?”
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“When we get home, I’m moving into the guesthouse.”
His face changed.
But he nodded.
“All right.”
“You’re not going to stop me?”
“No.”
The answer hurt unexpectedly.
Emily hated that too.
At the estate, Liam carried her suitcase to the guesthouse himself.
He placed it inside the bedroom.
Then stopped at the door.
Emily crossed her arms.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you.”
“You don’t have to do anything.”
“I think you care about consent physically.”
His expression tightened.
“You’re right.”
“But you don’t understand privacy emotionally.”
He looked down.
“That is also probably true.”
“You investigate. Protect. Fix. Decide.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He was silent.
Then:
“Because every time I trusted someone else to tell me the truth, I paid for it.”
Emily’s anger weakened.
Not disappeared.
Weakened.
“That explains it.”
“I know it doesn’t excuse it.”
“No.”
He nodded.
Then turned to leave.
“Liam.”
He stopped.
“Do you love me?”
The question shocked both of them.
Emily had not planned to ask it.
Liam slowly turned.
His face became unreadable.
That was answer enough.
Her heart began pounding.
“You do.”
He said nothing.
“Liam.”
“Yes.”
One word.
No performance.
No speech.
Just truth.
Emily’s eyes burned.
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s a lie.”
“A few weeks.”
“Before we married?”
“Yes.”
She laughed once.
Broken.
“So you loved me and investigated me.”
“Yes.”
“You loved me and proposed a contract.”
“Yes.”
“You loved me and still let me think this was mostly business.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His voice was rough.
“Because love does not erase the fact that I had more power than you.”
Emily stared.
“And if I had told you I loved you while your father’s company was collapsing, every yes you gave me might have felt like something you owed.”
Silence filled the room.
He continued.
“So I kept it to myself.”
Emily whispered, “Until now.”
“You asked.”
Her chest hurt.
She wanted to go to him.
She wanted to slam the door.
Both feelings existed at once.
“I still need space.”
“I know.”
Liam stepped outside.
Before closing the door, he said quietly, “I’ll never investigate you again.”
Emily looked at him.
“No conditions?”
“None.”
“No security reports?”
“Only if you ask.”
“No people following me?”
“Never.”
She nodded.
He closed the door.
Emily stood alone.
Five minutes later her phone buzzed.
A message from Liam.
One line.
I’m sorry.
No explanation.
No justification.
Emily sat on the edge of the bed.
Then another message arrived.
From an unknown number.
Attached was a photograph of Liam entering a downtown hotel that afternoon.
Beside him walked a beautiful blonde woman.
May you like
The caption read:
YOUR HUSBAND ISN’T WAITING FOR YOU.
:max_bytes(150000):strip_icc():focal(1048x378:1050x380)/Jenna-Bush-Hager-100223-c94955eb572d47ea815a340c18c6e771.jpg)
