Chapter 8 - THE MARRIAGE THAT HAD BEEN ARRANGED
Willow remembered the first night she met Lucas Sterling.
A charity auction.
Five years and eleven months earlier.
He had stood beside one of her sculptures for twenty minutes pretending to understand it.
She had teased him.
He had laughed.
He asked for coffee.
She thought it was fate.
Now she sat in Michael’s kitchen holding the phone while that memory turned rotten.
“Did Richard send you to meet me?”
Lucas spoke carefully.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“That is not an answer.”
“He knew who you were.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Willow felt something inside her collapse.
“How long?”
“From the beginning.”
Helena stopped typing.
Michael stood completely still.
Willow asked.
“Did you know Evelyn was my biological mother?”
“No.”
“Did you know my father had evidence against your family?”
Lucas sighed.
“My father said Michael Donovan had spent decades trying to extort us.”
Willow laughed bitterly.
“And you believed him.”
“I was twenty-nine.”
“You were a grown man.”
“I loved you.”
“Eventually?”
Lucas said nothing.
Willow whispered.
“You were supposed to watch me.”
“At first.”
The answer cut deeper than she expected.
“What were you looking for?”
“Documents.”
“From my father?”
“Yes.”
“Did you search my things?”
Silence.
“Lucas.”
“Yes.”
Willow stood abruptly.
Helena cursed.
Michael looked as if he might punch the wall.
Willow paced.
“The night you proposed.”
Lucas immediately said.
“That was real.”
“Was it?”
“Yes.”
“The wedding?”
“Yes.”
“The vows?”
“Yes.”
“My miscarriage?”
His breathing changed.
“Don’t.”
“My miscarriage was real, wasn’t it?”
“Of course.”
“Because at this point, Lucas, I don’t know which part of my life you were paid to manufacture.”
“I wasn’t paid.”
“No.”
She stared at nothing.
“You were born into it.”
She hung up.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Helena quietly asked.
“What now?”
Willow looked at her.
“Now I stop reacting.”
She returned to the table.
“We need three things.”
“Proof of the slap.”
“Proof that Richard targeted my family.”
“And Nathaniel Sterling.”
Michael nodded slowly.
“The hotel footage might give us the first.”
“Then we get it before they destroy it.”
Helena began searching contacts.
“My cousin works for a firm that represents hospitality employees.”
Willow looked at Michael.
“And Nathaniel?”
Michael pulled the Wisconsin photograph closer.
“The facility is called Briarwood.”
“Can we visit?”
“Not without authorization.”
“Who authorized his admission?”
Michael looked at the image.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to find out.”
Two hours later, Helena’s cousin called back.
The Peninsula had preserved security footage.
But there was a problem.
The ballroom cameras belonged to a private production company hired by Sterling Industries.
Willow almost smiled.
“Of course they did.”
The terrace corridor camera belonged to the hotel.
That footage showed Lucas following Willow outside.
Not the slap.
Still useful.
Then another message arrived.
Unknown number.
Willow opened it.
One sentence.
I have the footage you need.
Attached was a three-second clip.
Lucas’s arm moved.
His hand struck Willow.
Six hundred faces reacted behind them.
Unmistakable.
Willow’s pulse jumped.
She typed.
Who are you?
The answer appeared immediately.
Someone who was at Richard Sterling’s first wedding.
Willow stared.
Richard had only been publicly married once.
To Marion.
Then another message arrived.
Meet me at Union Station.
May you like
Come alone.
Ask your father what happened to Richard’s first wife before you trust him.
