Chapter 8 - WHAT CAMILLE HAD BEEN PROTECTING
Camille met us at dawn.
She looked nothing like the woman in Vincent's photograph.
She looked tired.
Frightened.
And relieved.
“You know,” she said.
I nodded.
“Benjamin.”
Her face softened.
“He wanted you to know.”
“Where is he?”
“He's alive.”
My knees almost gave way.
“Where?”
“Safe.”
“That's not enough.”
“I know.”
She looked at Vincent.
“You should have told her years ago.”
“I know.”
Camille turned to me.
“I was the one who moved the assets.”
“Why?”
“Because your husband asked me to.”
“Why did he need them moved?”
“To keep your father-in-law from accessing them.”
“Benjamin's assets?”
“Benjamin's.”
She pulled out a folder.
Inside were medical records.
Financial records.
Photographs.
And one more photograph of a young man.
He looked like my mother.
Not just slightly.
He had her eyes.
Her expression.
I touched the photograph.
“Where is he?”
“Chicago.”
I looked up.
“Why didn't he contact me?”
“He was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing what little stability he had.”
Camille looked at Vincent.
“He spent years believing his family had abandoned him.”
Vincent lowered his head.
“I didn't know.”
“I know.”
Then Camille turned toward me.
“Your husband didn't leave the hospital because he didn't care.”
I stared at her.
“Then why?”
“Because he had finally found Benjamin.”
Silence.
The truth hurt.
But it also changed something.
“You found him that night?”
Vincent nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you call me?”
“Because my father had men following us.”
“Why didn't you tell the doctors?”
“I was afraid they would come after Lucas.”
I looked at my son.
The fear suddenly made sense.
But it didn't erase the harm.
“You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“You left me alone.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you chose another woman.”
“I know.”
He stepped closer.
“I was trying to keep you and Lucas alive.”
I looked at him.
Then at Camille.
“Is Benjamin sick?”
“He has a heart condition.”
My chest tightened.
“The same one?”
Camille nodded.
“The condition your mother feared when she was seventeen.”
I covered my mouth.
My mother's lost child had survived.
Barely.
And Vincent had been searching for him while I thought my husband had abandoned me.
Yet there was still something wrong.
“What about the money?”
Camille placed another folder down.
“Your father-in-law spent years trying to gain control over the estate.”
“Why?”
“Because he knew Benjamin could challenge his structure.”
“And Lucas?”
“He was the next protected beneficiary.”
I looked at Vincent.
“So our son's company was built to protect both of them.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Vincent spoke quietly.
“Because I thought if you knew everything, you'd become a target.”
I shook my head.
“You didn't protect me by lying.”
He accepted that.
“I know.”
Then Camille reached into her bag.
She pulled out my husband's watch.
He stared.
“You thought I still had it.”
“I did.”
She handed it to me.
Inside the back clasp was another engraving.
814-B.
Eleanor examined it.
“Room 814. Benjamin.”
I closed my eyes.
The watch had been a map.
A message passed from one frightened person to another.
Camille began to cry.
“I gave it to Marisol because I couldn't get it directly to you.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought Vincent's father was watching the house.”
I looked at her.
“Was he?”
“Yes.”
“Then why hasn't he done anything?”
Camille's expression changed.
“He isn't the biggest threat anymore.”
“Who is?”
She looked at Vincent.
“Someone inside his business network.”
Vincent frowned.
“Who?”
“Your chief financial officer.”
Silence.
“What?”
“He has been moving money for years.”
Vincent stared at her.
“How much?”
“Enough to make your father-in-law look guilty.”
Eleanor looked at me.
“So the missing money wasn't all Vincent's father's.”
“No.”
“Who was taking it?”
Camille handed over a ledger.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Richard Hall.
Vincent's CFO.
I remembered meeting him.
He had brought flowers to the hospital.
He had hugged Vincent.
He had told everyone how relieved he was that mother and baby were safe.
My stomach turned.
“He knew about Benjamin.”
“Yes.”
“He knew about the trust.”
“Yes.”
“And he knew my husband was distracted.”
“Yes.”
Camille took a breath.
“He thought this would be the perfect time to destroy the Carter companies and buy them through a shell company.”
Eleanor flipped through the ledger.
“That's why he needed Vincent blamed.”
“And Camille?”
“He threatened her.”
“Because she knew.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Vincent.
“You were never cheating with her.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
I looked at the perfume memory.
“The perfume?”
Camille gave a small, embarrassed smile.
“My assistant spilled it on me.”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
Five years of marriage.
One hospital room.
One scent.
One assumption.
And underneath it all was a secret much bigger than an affair.
Then Vincent looked at me.
“I want you to meet Benjamin.”
I swallowed.
“Where?”
“He's at Northwestern.”
My heart stopped.
“The same hospital?”
“Yes.”
May you like
He looked at me.
“He asked for you.”
