Chapter 5 - The Marriage Before Thomas
Grace wanted to leave.
She almost did.
Everything felt impossible.
Her father murdered.
A hidden room.
A secret first marriage her mother had never mentioned.
But Eleanor said one name that stopped her.
“Charles Sinclair.”
Vanessa’s father.
Grace stared at her.
“My mother was married to Vanessa’s father?”
“For eleven months.”
“No.”
“Before she met Thomas.”
Grace shook her head.
“My mother would have told me.”
“She was terrified.”
“Of what?”
“Charles.”
Eleanor explained that nineteen years earlier, Charles Sinclair had been chief financial officer of Blackwood Holdings.
Brilliant.
Respected.
Untouchable.
Grace’s mother, Helen, had worked as his executive assistant.
The marriage happened quickly.
The divorce happened even faster.
Then Helen disappeared.
Months later, she met Thomas Miller.
Thomas eventually discovered why Helen had run.
Charles had been moving money through fake consulting companies.
Thomas found records while repairing an electrical fault in a restricted accounting office.
Instead of ignoring it, he copied everything.
Grace’s hands trembled.
“Why would an electrician risk his life over financial records?”
Eleanor’s answer came softly.
“Because he loved your mother.”
The room went quiet.
Grace looked at the old letter again.
“What happened to Charles?”
“He died twelve years ago.”
Adrian said.
“Heart attack.”
Grace looked toward him.
“And Vanessa inherited his company interests?”
“Most of them.”
Eleanor nodded.
“Which means she may have inherited more than money.”
Adrian stepped toward the window of his private office.
Below them, the gala continued.
A giant screen displayed Vanessa Sinclair’s name among the foundation’s largest sponsors.
Grace almost laughed at the absurdity.
“You put her name on the wall.”
Adrian looked ashamed.
“I didn’t know.”
His phone buzzed.
A message appeared.
He read it twice.
“What?”
Grace asked.
Adrian turned the screen toward them.
The message was anonymous.
STOP DIGGING OR THE MAID’S MOTHER DIES NEXT.
Grace’s blood went cold.
She immediately called Helen.
No answer.
She called again.
Nothing.
Grace grabbed her coat.
“I’m going home.”
Adrian caught her arm.
“I’m coming.”
“I don’t need you.”
“You need security.”
“My mother needs me.”
“She can have both.”
Eleanor called after them.
“Grace.”
Grace turned.
Eleanor held the photograph from room 217.
The scratched-out man.
“Before you go.”
She handed it over.
“Look at his hand.”
Grace studied the photograph.
The man wore a heavy silver ring.
A black stone surrounded by a serpent.
Grace had seen that ring tonight.
Only once.
During the moment Vanessa had screamed for security.
The man wearing it had been standing behind the guards.
Grace whispered.
“Your foundation director.”
Adrian stared at the photo.
“Martin Vale?”
Eleanor nodded.
“He worked for Charles Sinclair nineteen years ago.”
Adrian looked toward the ballroom.
May you like
Martin Vale was currently onstage.
And he was preparing to introduce Vanessa Sinclair as the evening’s humanitarian of the year.
