Chapter 8 - SHATTERED ILLUSIONS
The next forty-eight hours were a blur of legal strategy and quiet terror. Harrison Gray practically moved into my study, setting up war room boards, reviewing the contents of Claire's affidavit, and subpoenaing the oncologist based on the medical release form Claire had left behind.
But as the court date loomed, a new, insidious problem arose.
I was sitting in my study at midnight, reviewing financial documents, when my personal phone buzzed with an encrypted message from Vance, a private investigator I kept on retainer for corporate espionage.
Check your email. We found a leak.
I opened my laptop, pulling up the encrypted file Vance had sent. It contained transcripts of text messages and wire transfers. My blood ran cold as I read through them.
Someone inside my house had been feeding Victoria Sterling our daily schedules, photographs of the babies, and updates on my relationship with Grace. And Victoria had been paying them handsomely for it.
I scrolled down to the name associated with the bank account receiving the wire transfers.
It was Marcus. My head of security. The man who had stood beside me for five years.
A profound sense of betrayal washed over me. Marcus had access to everything. The cameras, the gate codes, our movements. He was the one who had let Victoria’s lawyers through the gates so easily. He was the one who had reported the "fake engagement" to the press to damage my credibility.
I didn't yell. I didn't throw anything. I simply picked up my phone and called the local police precinct, asking for a detective I had helped during a charity fundraiser.
Ten minutes later, I walked down to the security control room in the basement of the mansion. Marcus was sitting at the desk, watching the monitors.
"Everything quiet, sir," Marcus said, not looking up.
"It's about to get very loud, Marcus," I said softly.
He spun around, startled by my tone. "Sir?"
I tossed a printout of the wire transfers onto his desk. "Victoria Sterling paid you fifty thousand dollars to sell out my children. To sell out my wife's memory."
Marcus paled, his hand instinctively dropping toward his sidearm. "Ethan, listen to me, she offered me a fortune. She said you were losing your mind—"
Before he could finish the sentence, the door to the security room burst open. Three uniformed police officers piled into the room, tackling Marcus to the ground before he could draw his weapon.
"Marcus Vance, you are under arrest for corporate espionage, wire fraud, and extortion," the lead officer read, snapping handcuffs onto my former head of security.
As they dragged him away, I stood alone in the quiet hum of the server room. The mansion was purged of its poison, but the damage was done. Victoria had insider information. She knew Grace and I were faking the engagement. She knew I had been struggling to sleep. She was going to use Marcus's testimonies to destroy me in court.
I walked upstairs, feeling the immense weight of the impending battle. I paused outside the nursery.
Grace was sitting in the rocking chair, softly singing a lullaby over the low rhythm of Claire's heartbeat recording. I leaned against the doorframe, watching her. She had endured so much tragedy, yet she radiated nothing but warmth and love.
She looked up and saw me standing there. She stopped singing, a question in her eyes.
I walked into the room, crouching down beside the rocking chair. I reached out, gently taking her hand.
"Marcus was the mole," I whispered. "He's been arrested. But he told Victoria everything. He's going to testify that our engagement is a sham."
Grace squeezed my hand, her expression resolute. "Then let him."
I frowned. "If the judge believes it's a sham, he might grant her custody."
"Ethan," Grace said softly, her eyes searching mine in the dim light. "What if it isn't a sham anymore?"
My breath hitched. The air in the room seemed to stand still.
"I came here to help you heal," Grace continued, her voice trembling slightly. "I came here to honor Claire's dying wish. But somewhere along the way, I fell in love with these babies. And... I fell in love with you."
I stared at her, the truth of her words echoing the exact realization I had been too terrified to voice. I had spent three months drowning in the past, but looking at Grace, all I could see was the future.
"Claire told me in her letter to trust you," I whispered, reaching up to cup her cheek. "She told me you were the one who could help me heal. I think she knew, Grace. I think she chose you for a reason."
May you like
I leaned in, closing the distance between us. When my lips met hers, it wasn't a spark; it was a quiet, steady flame igniting in the darkness. It was a promise of survival. It was a vow that no matter what happened in that courtroom tomorrow, we were a family.
"We are not faking anything tomorrow," I told her, resting my forehead against hers. "We walk in there together, and we tear Victoria Sterling apart."
