Chapter 5 - Two Pregnancies
For several seconds, Emily heard nothing except her own son’s heartbeat on the monitor.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Vanessa was pregnant.
Preston had a child growing inside his mistress while his wife carried his son eight rooms away.
Emily expected to cry.
Instead, something inside her became almost unnaturally clear.
“How far along?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“Ten weeks.”
Emily did the math.
Their anniversary trip to Boston had been eleven weeks earlier.
Preston had spent half the trip “handling a crisis.”
Emily looked at him.
“The Boston conference?”
His silence answered.
Emily nodded slowly.
“Of course.”
Preston moved closer.
“Emily, please.”
“You used my anniversary trip to visit your pregnant girlfriend?”
“She wasn’t pregnant then.”
“That makes it better?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Vanessa wrapped her arms around herself.
“He told me your marriage had been over for a year.”
Emily laughed softly.
“A year ago, we were trying for this baby.”
Vanessa looked at Preston.
He avoided her eyes.
Emily watched the realization hit her.
For the first time, Vanessa looked less like a glamorous rival and more like a woman who had discovered she was standing inside the same trap.
Emily still did not forgive her.
But she recognized the trap.
Police separated Vanessa from Preston and took her statement.
Preston was escorted to another room.
Raymond remained beside Emily.
She stared at him.
“Was there anything else everyone knew about my marriage except me?”
Raymond winced.
“I knew Preston’s father had questions about the trust.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
Emily waited.
Raymond sighed.
“Six months ago, our auditors noticed unusual consulting payments.”
“To whom?”
“A company called Cross Strategic Partners.”
Emily turned toward the hallway where Vanessa had disappeared.
“Cross?”
“Yes.”
“Her company?”
“We assumed so.”
Vanessa returned ten minutes later with an officer.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
Vanessa’s eyes were red.
“I don’t own Cross Strategic Partners.”
Samantha frowned.
“Your name is Vanessa Cross.”
“I know my last name.”
“Then whose company is it?”
“I don’t know.”
Preston, from the doorway under security supervision, suddenly looked alarmed.
Vanessa saw him.
Her face changed.
“You told me those payments came from your personal investment company.”
Preston said nothing.
Vanessa stepped forward.
“You told me Cross Strategic was mine.”
“I set it up for you.”
“With whose money?”
“Vanessa—”
“Whose money?”
Emily already knew.
“Mine.”
Everyone looked at her.
She turned to Samantha.
“Check the trust.”
Samantha opened her laptop.
Minutes passed.
Then her expression hardened.
“Thirty-eight payments.”
“How much?”
Samantha hesitated.
“Twenty-six point four million dollars.”
Vanessa grabbed the back of a chair.
“What?”
Emily looked at Preston.
He said, “That money funded medical technology investments.”
Samantha shook her head.
“No.”
She turned the screen.
“Most of it went through Cross Strategic into three offshore entities.”
Raymond swore under his breath.
Emily’s hands turned cold.
“Can we trace them?”
“Probably.”
Preston suddenly stepped back.
The security officer beside him shifted position.
“Mr. Whitmore?”
“I need the restroom.”
“You can wait.”
“I said I need—”
His phone rang again.
This time Samantha looked at the number.
“Don’t touch it.”
Preston stopped.
The caller ID showed no name.
Only an international number.
The phone rang four times.
Then stopped.
A message appeared.
YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT.
Emily read it.
Preston immediately locked the screen.
“What happens at midnight?”
“Nothing.”
Raymond stepped forward.
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
“Preston.”
“I said no.”
Vanessa suddenly laughed.
It was shaky and frightened.
“You really are an idiot.”
Preston looked at her.
“What?”
She pulled her own phone from her purse.
“I got the same message.”
Emily’s pulse quickened.
Vanessa opened it.
YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT TO DELIVER THE REMAINING 80M.
Under the message was a photograph.
Emily leaned forward.
It showed Preston standing beside a man on a private airfield.
Between them sat a black metal briefcase.
Raymond’s face went pale.
He recognized the man.
Emily looked at him.
“Who is that?”
Raymond whispered the name.
“Martin Vale.”
Samantha stopped typing.
The security officers exchanged looks.
Emily frowned.
“Who is Martin Vale?”
May you like
Raymond turned toward her.
“The man your mother testified against three weeks before she died.”
