Chapter 8 - THE FIRST MRS. WHITMORE
Z
Catherine did not look like a villain.
That was Emily’s first thought.
She looked elegant.
Warm.
Almost fragile.
She entered the Whitmore home wearing cream trousers, a navy blouse, and no visible jewelry except a thin gold bracelet.
No dramatic entrance.
No raised voice.
She hugged Noah.
Then she looked at Emily.
“So you’re Emily.”
Emily stood.
“Yes.”
Catherine smiled gently.
“I’m sorry we’re meeting like this.”
Liam remained near the fireplace.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Catherine didn’t look at him.
“I came to see my son.”
“You came because there are cameras outside.”
“Still controlling the narrative, Liam?”
His eyes became cold.
Noah groaned.
“Can you both not do this?”
Emily looked at him.
This was not new.
This was childhood.
Years of it.
Catherine touched Noah’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
Then she looked at Emily.
“Could we speak privately?”
“No,” Liam said.
Emily turned toward him.
“You don’t decide that.”
His jaw tightened.
Catherine noticed.
Of course she noticed.
A faint smile touched her face.
“Some things never change.”
Emily hated the satisfaction in her voice.
But she also hated that Liam had just given Catherine evidence.
“I’ll talk to her,” Emily said.
“Emily.”
“In the library. Door stays open.”
Catherine nodded.
“Fine.”
They sat opposite one another.
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Catherine said, “You’re younger than I expected.”
Emily almost laughed.
“I hear that a lot.”
“I was twenty-four when I married Liam.”
Emily froze.
Catherine nodded.
“He was twenty-eight.”
Emily had never thought of that.
“What happened?”
Catherine looked toward the doorway.
Liam stood far enough away that he could not hear without deliberately listening.
“Noah was born two years later. Liam was building the company. I was alone constantly.”
Emily waited.
“He wasn’t cruel at first.”
At first.
The words were chosen carefully.
“He sent flowers. Remembered birthdays. Cooked breakfast on Sundays. Then Whitmore grew. Money changed everything.”
“Did he control you?”
Catherine looked at her.
“He controlled the bank accounts.”
“Because money was missing.”
Catherine’s expression barely changed.
“He told you that.”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you why?”
Emily said nothing.
Catherine leaned back.
“My brother had a gambling problem. I helped him.”
“Twelve million dollars?”
“Over several years.”
“Without telling your husband?”
“I knew what Liam would say.”
Emily stared.
“That doesn’t make taking corporate money legal.”
Catherine’s eyes hardened slightly.
“He had more money than we could spend in ten lifetimes.”
“It wasn’t all his.”
“No. It belonged to a corporation he controlled.”
Emily heard the rationalization.
She wondered whether Catherine heard it too.
“What happened the night you called police?”
For the first time, Catherine looked away.
“I was leaving.”
“With Noah?”
“Yes.”
“Without Liam knowing?”
“I was frightened.”
“Of him?”
Catherine hesitated.
Emily noticed.
“Yes.”
“You hesitated.”
Catherine’s gaze sharpened.
“You think you understand him after four days?”
“No.”
“Then listen to someone who survived ten years.”
The word survived landed heavily.
Emily folded her hands.
“I’m listening.”
Catherine took a breath.
“Liam discovered the money. He hired investigators. Followed me. Had people photograph me. He froze accounts. Took my passport from the safe.”
Emily frowned.
“Why?”
“He thought I would leave the country.”
“Were you planning to?”
Silence.
Catherine’s eyes narrowed.
“You’re good.”
“At what?”
“Asking the question he wants asked.”
Emily sat straighter.
“I’m asking my own questions.”
Catherine gave a small laugh.
“That’s what I said too.”
The manipulation was subtle.
Almost impressive.
Catherine opened her purse.
She removed a flash drive.
“Watch what’s on this before you decide who he is.”
“What is it?”
“Security footage. Audio recordings. Court documents Liam kept sealed.”
“Why give them to me?”
“Because you’re twenty-three.”
Her voice softened.
“And because when I was twenty-three, I wish someone had warned me.”
Emily looked at the drive.
Before she could take it, Liam appeared in the doorway.
“Catherine.”
His voice could have cracked stone.
Catherine placed the drive on the table.
“I’m leaving.”
Noah stepped into the hallway.
“Mom.”
She kissed his cheek.
“I’ll call you tonight.”
Then she walked toward Liam.
For a second they stood face-to-face.
Old history seemed to fill the space between them.
Catherine whispered something Emily could not hear.
Liam’s expression changed.
Barely.
But enough.
After Catherine left, Liam closed the front door.
Emily held up the flash drive.
“What did she say?”
“Throw that away.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
His gaze dropped to the drive.
“What did she say?” Emily repeated.
Liam looked at her.
“She said Grant is going to take everything from me.”
Noah went pale.
Emily frowned.
“Why would she know what Grant is planning?”
Liam said nothing.
Noah suddenly turned away.
Too quickly.
Emily noticed.
“Noah?”
“I’m going upstairs.”
“Wait.”
He stopped.
Emily looked from Noah to Liam.
“What am I missing?”
Neither answered.
She held up the drive.
“I’m watching this.”
Liam’s voice was quiet.
“I can’t stop you.”
“No.”
“You can’t.”
He looked at her.
Something painful crossed his face.
“But before you do, there’s something you need to know.”
Emily waited.
Liam glanced at Noah.
Noah stared at the floor.
Then Liam said, “The night Catherine called the police, she wasn’t leaving with Noah because she was afraid of me.”
Catherine had said the opposite.
Emily’s pulse quickened.
“Then why?”
Liam’s voice became rough.
“Because I had discovered she was having an affair.”
Emily inhaled.
“With who?”
Liam did not answer.
May you like
Noah did.
“My uncle Grant.”
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