Chapter 3: What Was Hidden in the Wall
I stood up slowly.
Victoria hadn't moved.
She was watching me with the careful stillness of someone who had rehearsed for this moment and was now realizing the script was wrong.
"Nathan," she said.
Her voice had recovered some of its composure.
"Put the phone down.
Whatever that message says, whoever sent it — it's a setup.
Someone is trying to destabilize you right before the merger closes.
Think about what's at stake."
"Grace." I kept my eyes on Victoria.
"Can you stand?"
"Yes." Grace's voice was tight with pain.
She shifted Lily to her hip, one arm wrapped around the child, the other pressed flat against her own ribs where the blow had landed.
"Take Lily to the sitting room.
Stay there."
"Nathan, you cannot be serious —" Victoria started.
"Don't." The word came out flat and quiet.
It stopped her completely.
I walked past her toward the hallway stairs.
I heard her heels on the marble behind me, following at a distance.
I didn't look back.
I took the stairs at a steady pace, turned left at the landing, and pushed open the door to my private study.
The safe was set into the wall behind the bookcase.
A Hargrove family installation, built when my father owned this house.
I was the only person who knew the combination.
Or so I had believed.
I pressed my thumb to the biometric pad.
The lock released with a soft click.
I pulled the door open.
The top shelf held what I expected — title documents, my father's will, a folded copy of the original estate deed.
The bottom shelf held a fireproof box I kept for financial records.
Between them, where there should have been nothing, sat a plain manila envelope.
It had not been there three weeks ago.
I had opened this safe to retrieve insurance paperwork, and that shelf had been empty.
I picked it up.
My name was written on the front in handwriting I didn't recognize.
"Nathan." Victoria was in the doorway now.
Her voice had changed again — softer, almost gentle.
"Whatever is in that envelope, I can explain it.
Just let me talk before you open it.
Please."
I looked at her.
"You've been in this safe."
"I was looking for the property documents for the Ashford account.
You were traveling, I needed them urgently, and I know how you keep your combination in the back of your desk calendar —"
"I changed that combination eight months ago."
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
"Who gave you the new one, Victoria?"
She crossed her arms.
The gentleness evaporated.
"Open the envelope and you'll understand why I did what I did.
Everything in there was to protect us.
To protect the merger.
You have no idea how many people were trying to undermine this family before we were even married —"
I opened the envelope.
Inside were three items.
A folded letter on medical letterhead.
A photograph.
And a single printed page that appeared to be a legal document — the top corner stamped with the name of a law firm I had never hired.
I unfolded the letter first.
It was from a private genetics laboratory.
Dated fourteen months ago.
The subject line read: *Paternity Confirmation — Hargrove / Chen.*
I read it once.
Then I read it again.
The result was not ambiguous.
I set the letter down on the desk.
I picked up the photograph.
It showed Grace — younger, thinner, clearly unwell — sitting in a hospital chair.
She was holding a newborn.
Written on the back in the same unfamiliar handwriting as the envelope: *She tried to reach you.
We made sure she couldn't.*
We.
I looked up.
Victoria was watching my face with an expression I had never seen on her before.
Not panic.
Not guilt.
Something colder than either.
Calculation.
"Who is we?" I said.
She said nothing.
"Victoria.
Who else knew about this child?"
She lifted her chin.
"You should sit down, Nathan.
This is going to be a longer conversation than you think."
My hand found the edge of the desk.
I didn't sit.
May you like
"Start talking," I said.
"Right now."
