Chapter 2 - The Name He Never Knew
There it was.
The sentence beneath every cruel thing he had done for years.
Where are you going to go?
He believed he knew the answer.
Nowhere.
Because when I married Caleb Harlan, I had allowed the world to believe I was simply Madeline Ross, an ordinary financial analyst from Boston.
Only Caleb knew I came from money.
What he did not know was how much.
I had never told him that Ross was my mother’s maiden name.
I had never told him that my legal birth name was Madeline Whitcomb.
I had never told him that three of the most powerful private businessmen in America were my older brothers.
Everett.
Silas.
Dean.
I had disappeared from their lives after my father’s death because I blamed the family business for consuming him.
When Caleb told me he wanted a normal marriage, I thought hiding the Whitcomb name would protect something pure.
Instead, it had made Caleb believe there was nobody behind me.
No family.
No safety net.
No door I could open if he closed his.
“Give me my phone,” I repeated.
He tossed it across the table.
It slid through cake frosting.
I picked it up.
One percent battery.
Enough.
My hand shook as I searched a number I had never deleted.
Everett Whitcomb.
I pressed call.
He answered before the second ring.
There was silence.
Then my oldest brother said my name.
Not Madeline.
“Maddie?”
My throat closed.
Five years since I had spoken to him.
Five years, and he still sounded like the brother who used to wait outside my bedroom after thunderstorms when we were children.
I nearly broke.
Nearly.
“Everett.”
“What happened?”
Behind me, Caleb laughed once.
“Calling an old boyfriend?”
Everett heard him.
His voice changed.
“Who is that?”
I closed my eyes.
“I need you.”
Three words.
Nothing more.
The other end went completely silent.
Then came the scrape of a chair.
“Where?”
“My house in Briar Glen.”
“Are you hurt?”
I looked down at Sophie.
“Yes.”
“Is Sophie hurt?”
“She watched.”
Everett inhaled slowly.
“Stay on the phone.”
The battery warning flashed.
“No. I’m at one percent.”
“Maddie.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize to me.”
His voice cracked.
It was the first time I had ever heard Everett Whitcomb sound afraid.
“Just tell me one thing. Are you asking me to come get you?”
I looked straight at Caleb.
“Yes.”
The call ended.
Caleb folded his arms.
“That was dramatic.”
Vanessa gave a nervous little laugh.
“Who exactly is Everett?”
“My brother.”
Caleb shook his head.
“You told me your brothers worked in finance.”
“They do.”
“What does that mean?”
I slid the phone into my pocket.
“You’ll find out.”
He smiled.
It was cruel because he still believed he was in control.
“Fine. Let them come. Maybe they can convince you to stop humiliating yourself.”
Twenty-seven minutes later, headlights appeared beyond the iron gates.
Not one vehicle.
Nine.
Black SUVs rolled silently up the curved drive.
Caleb’s smile disappeared.
The lead vehicle stopped directly beneath the front portico.
Three doors opened almost simultaneously.
Everett stepped out first.
At forty-six, my eldest brother had the calm, severe presence that financial reporters loved to describe as intimidating. He ran Whitcomb Holdings, a privately held industrial and infrastructure group valued at more than twenty billion dollars.
Silas emerged from the second vehicle.
Forty-three.
Corporate attorney.
Founder of Whitcomb Hale Legal.
The brother who could quote a contract from memory after reading it once.
Dean came from the third.
Thirty-nine.
Technology and communications.
Restless.
Sharp.
The only one of us who had inherited our mother’s blue eyes.
The three of them walked toward the house.
Caleb stared through the windows.
His face lost color.
“No.”
I said nothing.
He looked at me.
Then back at them.
“No.”
Vanessa whispered, “What?”
May you like
Caleb turned slowly.
“Whitcomb?”
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