Chapter 3 - The Secret Behind the Divorce
Diane finally found her voice.
“You are doing this because you are bitter.”
I looked at her.
“You poured freezing dirty water over a pregnant woman.”
“You provoked me.”
“No,” I said. “You revealed yourself.”
Her expression twisted.
“You have always acted superior.”
I almost smiled.
“Diane, you called me poor for six years.”
“You let us think you were poor.”
“No. You decided I was beneath you because I did not perform wealth the way you did.”
Her husband, Henry, had been silent through most of the night.
Now he looked at the financial notices on Marcus’s tablet.
“What happens to the foundation?” he asked.
My gaze shifted to him.
The Brennan Family Foundation had been one of Diane’s greatest sources of pride. She hosted charity events, gave speeches about generosity, and appeared in society magazines beside oversized checks.
But the foundation depended on a Vale Meridian endowment.
An endowment Diane had been using improperly.
“I asked Legal Affairs to review all foundation transactions,” I said.
Diane froze.
“You cannot do that.”
“I already did.”
Marcus opened another report.
“Over the past two years,” he said, “more than four hundred thousand dollars in foundation funds were transferred to personal accounts and used for private expenses.”
Jessica stepped away from Diane.
Brendan looked at his mother.
“Mom?”
Diane’s face changed.
For the first time, I saw panic.
Not embarrassment.
Not anger.
Panic.
“That was temporary,” she whispered.
Henry stared at her.
“You used foundation money?”
“I was going to replace it.”
“With what?” I asked.
She looked at Brendan.
And suddenly, the entire family understood.
Brendan had not been the only one relying on lies.
The Brennan family’s expensive house, private club memberships, charity galas, luxury vacations, and polished reputation had been held together by debt, misused funds, and other people’s money.
They were not wealthy.
They were performing wealth.
And every person at that table had helped protect the performance.
Marcus’s phone buzzed.
He read the message, then looked at me.
“Ms. Vale, the emergency board session is beginning.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
Brendan stepped toward me.
“Cassidy, please.”
The sound of my name in his voice was almost unfamiliar.
Not dismissive.
Not irritated.
Afraid.
“You cannot do this to my family.”
I looked at him.
“You mean the family that laughed while your mother humiliated me?”
He swallowed.
“I did not know she would do that.”
“You watched.”
“I froze.”
“So did I,” I replied. “But I was seven months pregnant and covered in freezing water.”
His eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
For a moment, I thought of the man I married.
The man who once held my hand in a crowded restaurant.
The man who promised to protect me.
The man I kept hoping would return.
But he was gone.
May you like
Maybe he had never existed.
“You are sorry because you are afraid,” I said. “You were not sorry when you thought I had nowhere to go.”
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