Chapter 4 - A Letter From the Grave
I held my father’s final letter in my hands while the man who might have been responsible for his death stood ten feet away.
For fourteen years, I had wondered what my father would have said if he had known he was leaving us.
He had left for work that morning irritated because Adrien had borrowed one of his watches without asking.
He had teased Malik about a terrible haircut.
He had promised Theo they would finish building a model airplane that weekend.
And before walking out the door, he had kissed me on the forehead.
I had been eighteen.
“Study for your economics exam,” he'd told me.
Those were the last words I ever heard him say.
Now there was an envelope in my hands addressed to me.
My fingers couldn't open it.
Adrien stepped beside me.
“You don't have to do this here.”
“Yes.”
My voice trembled.
“Yes, I do.”
I tore the envelope.
Inside was a single folded page.
My father's handwriting blurred through my tears.
I forced myself to read.
My Isabelle,
If you're reading this, something has gone wrong in a way I hoped it never would.
First, you must understand something. None of what happened is because of you, Adrien, Malik, or Theo. I made decisions in business believing I could control the consequences. I was wrong.
There are people around me who believe money makes them untouchable.
Never believe that.
Money does not make a person powerful.
The ability to walk away from it does.
I have placed a portion of my investment in Cole Freight into a trust for you. I chose you because your brothers will build their own lives, but you have always loved too easily. One day someone may mistake your kindness for weakness.
Do not let them.
If anything happens to me, trust your brothers.
And if the Cole family ever asks you to surrender what belongs to you, ask why they are afraid of you owning it.
Dad.
I couldn't see the rest.
Tears fell onto the paper.
For fourteen years, I had wished for another conversation with him.
Now his voice had reached me from beyond the grave only to warn me about the family I had married into.
Damian looked at me.
“Isabelle, listen to me.”
I raised my hand.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
“Don't say my name like you still have the right.”
His face tightened.
Victor watched me without emotion.
I looked at him.
“Why did you have this?”
“Your father gave it to me.”
“Why?”
“He asked me to make sure you received it if anything happened.”
My grief turned instantly into rage.
“And you waited fourteen years?”
Victor said nothing.
“You came to my wedding.”
Still nothing.
“You watched me marry your son.”
Silence.
“You sat at my table for Christmas. You toasted my anniversary. You called me your daughter.”
Victor’s expression changed slightly.
“What was I supposed to do?”
“Give me the letter!”
“You would have destroyed everything.”
“You mean your family.”
“Yes.”
The honesty shocked me.
Victor exhaled.
“Your father intended to go to federal authorities. He believed principles mattered more than survival.”
Adrien stepped forward.
“They did.”
Victor gave him a tired look.
“That's what men say when they haven't watched thousands of employees depend on one signature.”
Malik laughed once.
“Don't turn fraud into philanthropy.”
“You have no idea what was at stake.”
“I know exactly what was at stake,” Malik said. “Your freedom.”
Victor stared at him.
Then the FBI agent approached.
“Mr. Cole, we'd like you to come with us voluntarily.”
Victor smiled.
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet.”
“Then no.”
He turned toward the doors.
The agent didn't stop him.
That confused me.
Malik noticed.
He walked over to the prosecutor and spoke quietly.
Theo moved toward me.
“We need to get you out of here.”
“I’m not leaving.”
“Belle.”
Only my brothers called me that.
Usually hearing it calmed me.
Tonight nothing did.
“I need to know everything.”
Theo lowered his voice.
“You're shaking.”
“I’m angry.”
“You're pale.”
“I've had a difficult evening.”
His eyes narrowed.
He had always been annoyingly observant.
Before he could say anything else, Vanessa stepped toward me.
“Isabelle.”
Adrien immediately moved between us.
“I need to talk to her,” Vanessa said.
“No.”
“Please.”
I looked at her.
The woman standing in front of me had slept with my husband, lied about knowing him, and apparently participated in a plan designed to strip me of my inheritance.
I should have hated her completely.
I did hate her.
But there was something else in her face now.
Fear.
Not of my brothers.
Of Damian.
“Let her talk.”
Adrien looked at me.
“Belle.”
“I said let her.”
He stepped aside reluctantly.
Vanessa came closer.
Her makeup had begun to smear beneath her eyes.
“He lied to me too.”
I almost laughed.
“Do you expect sympathy?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I knew about the trust.”
My jaw tightened.
“I figured.”
“But I didn't know about your father.”
“Then why did you rent the storage unit?”
“Damian said it contained financial records his father needed hidden during an IRS audit.”
“You believed that?”
“I didn't care.”
At least she didn't insult me by pretending otherwise.
“What do you want?”
Vanessa looked toward Damian.
He stood across the ballroom with his attorneys, furiously typing on his phone.
She lowered her voice.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“Damian didn't plan to just divorce you.”
My skin went cold.
“He told you the settlement would transfer my shares.”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
She hesitated.
“Last year he started asking about whether a spouse could challenge competency.”
Theo moved closer.
“What kind of competency?”
“Medical.”
I stared.
Vanessa continued.
“He asked one of his attorneys what would happen if Isabelle became unable to manage financial decisions.”
My stomach twisted.
“Why?”
“He said if you were declared temporarily incompetent, he might obtain control of the trust as your spouse.”
Malik had returned.
He heard the last sentence.
“That's not how a protected trust works.”
“I know that now.”
“What did Damian think would make her incompetent?” Malik asked.
Vanessa looked at me.
“I don't know.”
I stepped closer.
“Vanessa.”
“I swear.”
“Think.”
She closed her eyes.
Then opened them.
“There was a doctor.”
Damian spun toward us.
“Vanessa!”
Adrien blocked him.
“What doctor?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“Dr. Samuel Keene. Damian paid him.”
My body went numb.
I knew that name.
“He's my doctor.”
Theo's head snapped toward me.
“What?”
“My fertility specialist.”
Damian stopped moving.
And suddenly everything connected in a way so horrifying that for a second I could not breathe.
Dr. Keene had been treating me for nearly a year.
Damian had told me he wanted children.
He had attended the first appointments.
Then gradually stopped coming because work was too busy.
“What did Damian pay him for?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don't know. I saw transfers on Damian's private account. Fifty thousand. Then another seventy-five.”
Theo was already typing.
“Dates?”
“January. April. Maybe July.”
Theo looked up.
His face changed.
“What?”
He turned his phone toward Malik.
“They're there.”
I felt sick.
Three payments.
KEENE MEDICAL CONSULTING.
Malik stared at Damian.
Damian had gone completely silent.
I touched my stomach instinctively.
My baby.
My six-week-old secret.
Suddenly every appointment, every pill, every blood test felt dangerous.
“Call him,” I whispered.
Theo looked at me.
“Call Dr. Keene.”
“Belle—”
“Now.”
Theo found the number.
He called.
Speakerphone.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
A woman answered.
“Dr. Keene’s office.”
“This is Theodore Voss. I need to speak with Dr. Keene regarding Isabelle Cole.”
A pause.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Keene is unavailable.”
“This is an emergency.”
Another pause.
Then a different voice.
Male.
Nervous.
“Mr. Voss?”
Dr. Keene.
I stepped closer.
“This is Isabelle.”
Silence.
“Doctor?”
“Mrs. Cole.”
“Did my husband pay you?”
Silence again.
I felt my brothers move around me.
“Answer me.”
“I can't discuss confidential—”
“Did Damian Cole pay you?”
His breathing changed.
“Yes.”
My knees weakened.
Theo caught my elbow.
“What for?” I asked.
“It wasn't what you think.”
“What was it?”
“I was asked to provide information.”
“What information?”
“Your treatment.”
“That violates every law you swore to obey.”
“I know.”
“Did you change any medication?”
“No.”
“Did you falsify any results?”
“No.”
“Did you do anything that could have hurt me?”
“No.”
His answer came quickly.
Too quickly?
I couldn't tell anymore.
“Then why pay you?”
“He wanted updates.”
“What kind?”
“Whether treatment was working.”
Damian shouted from across the room.
“Hang up.”
Nobody listened.
I closed my eyes.
“Why would my husband secretly pay you to know if I was becoming pregnant?”
Dr. Keene didn't answer.
“Doctor?”
“I think you should ask him.”
I looked at Damian.
His face told me he already knew what was coming.
“Tell me,” I whispered.
The doctor exhaled.
“He specifically instructed me to inform him immediately if you conceived.”
My hand covered my stomach.
Damian stared at me.
His expression changed.
His anger disappeared.
In its place came realization.
Slow.
Terrible.
His eyes dropped to my hand.
Then back to my face.
“Isabelle?”
I said nothing.
His voice changed.
“You're pregnant.”
Every head in the ballroom turned toward me.
Vanessa looked as though someone had struck her.
My secret was no longer mine.
Damian took one step toward me.
“How far?”
Adrien moved in front of me.
“Don't.”
Damian ignored him.
“How far along?”
I could barely speak.
“Six weeks.”
His face went blank.
For one impossible second, I saw the man I had once loved.
The man who had talked about children with me.
The man who had once held a tiny pair of baby socks in a store and joked that our daughter would inherit my stubbornness.
Then his expression changed again.
Calculation returned.
May you like
And when he spoke, whatever remained of my marriage died completely.
“Then you can't divorce me yet.”
