Chapter 4 - THE PHOTOGRAPH THEY PLANNED TO USE AGAINST ME
“They were going to put my body on display.”
My voice sounded strangely calm.
Eleanor sat across from me, examining the photograph on her computer.
I couldn't look at it again.
The image showed my back before the final graft had healed.
Raw scars.
Surgical markings.
Damage so extensive that even remembering those months sometimes made breathing difficult.
Cassidy had obtained one of the most private photographs of my life.
And someone had prepared it for public humiliation.
Eleanor closed the file.
“This wasn't a dress-code misunderstanding, Vivian. Someone accessed confidential medical information and prepared to distribute it without your permission.”
“Can we stop them?”
“We can take immediate steps to preserve the evidence and notify the medical provider and gala organizers. But I also want to know how they obtained the image.”
I already had a suspicion.
Preston had accompanied me to nearly every surgery during the first two years.
He held my medical paperwork.
He knew my doctors.
He had access to photographs I never wanted anyone else to see.
But knowing he could have done it wasn't the same as proving he had.
Eleanor advised me to keep our investigation separate from the divorce proceedings until we understood the full extent of the misconduct.
Then she said something I wasn't expecting.
“Vivian, the gown requirement may actually help establish intent.”
“How?”
“Because it wasn't imposed by the gala's independent planning committee.”
She showed me the event contract.
Cassidy's communications department had submitted the unusual dress code as a sponsor condition.
The words backless gowns only appeared in a revision bearing her authorization.
I felt a bitter smile form.
Cassidy had been so confident I would disappear that she hadn't bothered to hide her fingerprints.
That afternoon, I went to the apartment Preston and I had shared for five years.
It no longer felt like home.
Two luggage sets stood near the entrance.
One belonged to Preston.
The other was a cream-colored designer collection I had never seen before.
Cassidy was in my kitchen.
She wore one of Preston's shirts and stood barefoot beside the marble counter, slicing an apple.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then she smiled.
“Vivian. You're home early.”
I set my handbag down.
“This is my home.”
Her smile tightened.
“For now.”
I noticed the small curve of her stomach.
Whatever I felt about Cassidy, the baby had no responsibility for any of this.
I refused to make an innocent child part of our war.
“Where's Preston?”
“At the office.”
She bit into the apple.
“You really should call before dropping by. Stress isn't good for me.”
I stared at her.
“You're standing in my kitchen, wearing my husband's shirt, and you're asking me to call first?”
Cassidy shrugged.
“I'm trying to be civilized.”
I walked past her toward the bedroom.
She followed.
“By the way, did you receive the gala invitation?”
“Yes.”
“Such an elegant dress code, don't you think?”
I turned.
“Why do you hate me?”
The question seemed to catch her off guard.
For the first time, her practiced smile faltered.
“I don't hate you.”
“Then why are you trying to humiliate me?”
She looked away.
“You have no idea what it's like to build a career while someone else's name opens every door.”
I nearly laughed.
“My name?”
“Preston's wife. The courageous survivor. The woman everyone was supposed to admire.”
Her voice sharpened.
“I spent six years earning my place in that company. But people still treated you like the woman who mattered.”
I studied her.
She was beautiful.
Intelligent.
Ambitious.
And so desperately afraid of being overlooked that she was willing to destroy someone who had never competed with her.
“Cassidy,” I said quietly, “you could have built a life without taking mine apart.”
She crossed her arms.
“Spare me the speech.”
I opened my jewelry drawer and removed my grandmother's gold bracelet.
It was the only valuable thing I'd kept from my family.
A delicate chain with a small phoenix charm.
Grandma Rose had given it to me when I started working in finance.
Never let anyone make you feel smaller for knowing your worth, she'd told me.
I fastened it around my wrist.
Cassidy noticed.
“Still wearing that cheap little bracelet?”
I looked at her.
“It reminds me who I was before I met Preston.”
Something about that answer disturbed her.
She stepped closer.
“You think Gideon Ashford is going to save you?”
I froze.
“How do you know about Gideon?”
Cassidy's expression changed.
Just slightly.
Then she smiled again.
“People talk.”
But I'd never told Preston about my meeting with Gideon.
And Gideon certainly hadn't mentioned it publicly.
I left the bedroom without another word.
In the hallway, I encountered Preston.
He stopped when he saw me.
Then his gaze shifted to Cassidy behind me.
For once, he looked uncomfortable.
“Vivian, this isn't what it looks like.”
I almost admired the absurdity.
His pregnant mistress was standing in our bedroom wearing his shirt.
And he still thought a sentence could erase reality.
“It looks exactly like what it is.”
He lowered his voice.
“Let's discuss this privately.”
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“You've become very difficult lately.”
“Have I?”
“I've tried to be patient with you.”
Something inside me went perfectly still.
“Patient?”
He gestured vaguely toward my back.
“After everything that happened, I stayed. A lot of men wouldn't have.”
I stared at the man I'd dragged through burning debris.
The man whose life I had saved.
He had somehow transformed his betrayal into an act of generosity.
“Then you won't have to stay anymore.”
I took the envelope from my handbag.
And handed him the divorce papers.
Preston looked at them.
Then laughed.
“You can't be serious.”
“I am.”
He flipped through the pages.
His smile disappeared when he reached the financial disclosure requests.
“What is this?”
“A divorce.”
“No.” His voice rose. “This is an attempt to investigate my assets.”
“Yes.”
He stared at me.
For the first time in years, he seemed unsure what to say.
Then he lowered the papers and smiled in a way I didn't recognize.
“You've been talking to Ashford.”
I said nothing.
Preston leaned closer.
“You think he cares about you?”
“Move away from me.”
“He's using you, Vivian. And when he's finished, he'll throw you away just like everyone else.”
Cassidy stood silently behind him.
I slipped my wedding ring off.
Placed it on the hallway table.
And walked toward the door.
Preston called after me.
“You'll come crawling back when you realize what you've lost.”
I didn't turn around.
Outside, my phone displayed a message from Eleanor.
She had received the original hospital access records.
The medical photograph had been downloaded from my patient account three weeks earlier.
Using an authorized spouse login.
But the download location wasn't Preston's home or office.
It was Gideon Ashford's private corporate network.
May you like
And beside the access record was a registered device name:
ASHFORD-EXECUTIVE-01.
