Chapter 5 - Valentina Knew My Mother Was Alive, and She Told Me Adrian Had Been Lying About the Divorce From the BeginningThe next morning, Valentina found me alone.
She closed the hotel room door.
“Before you assume I'm your enemy…”
“You're married to Adrian.”
“Not yet.”
“You're carrying his child.”
She smiled.
“Am I?”
That question made my blood run cold.
“What does that mean?”
She sat down.
“I know about your baby.”
I froze.
“How?”
“Adrian talks.”
“Not about Ava.”
“No.”
“Then who told you?”
“Your mother.”
I couldn't breathe.
“My mother?”
“She contacted me four months ago.”
“Where is she?”
Valentina shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“Then why are you helping me?”
“Because Adrian isn't the man you think he is.”
That almost made me laugh.
“You don't know Adrian.”
“I know more than you.”
She pulled out a folder.
Inside was an old medical report.
Adrian's fertility testing.
Normal.
My hands shook.
“What?”
Valentina pointed.
“He wasn't infertile.”
I stared.
“Your doctors told you the problem was you.”
“I know.”
“They lied.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Why?”
“To make you believe the divorce was justified.”
“For what?”
“To remove you.”
“From what?”
“His enemies.”
I stared at her.
Adrian had known?
He had known the problem wasn't me?
Valentina continued:
“Your ex-husband didn't divorce you because he hated you.”
“Then why?”
“Because someone inside the Moretti organization had discovered you were investigating the financial network.”
My stomach dropped.
“I wasn't investigating.”
“You found the directory.”
“Yes.”
“He knew.”
I sat down.
“What?”
“He saw that you opened it.”
I stared.
“He knew?”
“From the beginning.”
My mind raced.
The specialists.
His mother's comments.
The divorce.
Everything.
It had been staged.
My infertility had been a lie.
The cruelty had been deliberate.
He needed me to hate him.
Why?
Valentina looked at me.
“Because if you stayed married to him, you would have become a target.”
I shook my head.
“He could have told me.”
“He couldn't.”
“Why?”
“Because someone inside your family was helping his enemies.”
I stared.
“My family?”
Valentina nodded.
“Your mother.”
The room spun.
“No.”
“She didn't want you involved.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why show me this?”
She reached into the folder.
A photo.
My mother.
Standing beside a man.
Adrian.
And another man I knew.
Marcus Cross.
Valentina's father.
I stared.
The wedding wasn't about Adrian choosing another woman.
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It was about three families who had been connected for decades.
And I was standing in the middle of them.
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