Chapter 4 - The Mistress Who Wasn't in Monte CarloFor almost a minute, nobody spoke.
Marcus Bell sat across from me, watching my face as I studied the photograph.
The woman wore dark sunglasses, a cream-colored coat, and a silk scarf printed with pale blue flowers.
My scarf.
I had purchased it in Paris seven years earlier.
There were only fifty made.
And I had last seen mine in a drawer inside the Chicago penthouse.
"How did she get that?" I whispered.
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
"Mrs. Blackwood, there's something you need to understand about this photograph."
"That's Lila."
"We believe so."
"Then why was she in Chicago? Adrian bought her a necklace that was delivered to Monte Carlo."
"Delivery doesn't prove she was in the hotel."
I looked up.
"What?"
"According to the flight information our investigator obtained, Ms. Morgan left the French Riviera on a chartered aircraft before your husband's plane landed in Nice."
I stared at him.
"She wasn't waiting for Adrian?"
"No."
"Then why did he go there?"
"According to his itinerary, he expected to meet her the following morning. She told him she needed to return to New York briefly for a family matter."
"And the photograph of all three of them?"
"That was taken on an earlier trip. We verified it against the hotel's event records."
I felt sick.
Lila had been in Chicago while Adrian was in Europe.
She had entered his company's restricted accounting department using credentials assigned to me.
And she had done it on the same night I left.
"How did you discover this?" Katherine asked.
Marcus shifted in his chair.
"Part of my job is investigating unauthorized access. A routine exception report identified Mrs. Blackwood's credentials at headquarters while she was supposedly abroad on a personal trip."
"I wasn't abroad."
"I know that now."
"Why wasn't this reported immediately?"
"The exception was marked as resolved by Graham Voss's office."
Katherine leaned forward.
"Who made that decision?"
"An administrator reporting to Graham."
"Where is the original video?"
"Deleted from the primary system as part of a claimed retention cleanup."
My stomach tightened.
"Then how did you get the photograph?"
Marcus reached into his briefcase.
"The building's loading-dock cameras are maintained on a different system. Graham apparently forgot that."
He produced three additional images.
The first showed Lila leaving a dark sedan outside the headquarters building.
The second showed her entering through a service corridor.
The third showed her carrying a narrow leather document case as she returned to the car forty-two minutes later.
"Can you identify the driver?" Katherine asked.
Marcus nodded.
"An outside chauffeur. We've preserved the booking records."
I stared at the document case.
"She was carrying something."
"Yes."
"What?"
"We don't know."
Katherine folded her hands.
"Marcus, why are you giving us this instead of taking it to Adrian?"
His expression changed.
"Because I did take it to Adrian."
I felt my chest tighten.
"When?"
"Three days ago."
"And?"
"He ordered me to preserve the evidence and instructed Graham to provide an explanation."
Katherine's eyes narrowed.
"What explanation did Graham give?"
"That Ms. Morgan was collecting confidential documents for a European acquisition."
"Using my security credentials?" I asked.
Marcus shook his head.
"Mr. Blackwood challenged him on that point."
"What happened?"
"Graham said the credentials had been assigned to Ms. Morgan temporarily because her own access wasn't working."
I laughed in disbelief.
"And Adrian believed that?"
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
"I don't know what Mr. Blackwood believes."
That answer told me enough.
For fourteen years, Adrian had trusted Graham more than anyone.
More than his legal department.
More than his independent directors.
And sometimes, I suspected, more than me.
After Marcus left, Katherine walked me through the evidence.
We had photographs, access logs, and information suggesting that someone had used my digital identity.
But photographs weren't proof of what had happened inside the accounting system.
We needed authenticated records.
Independent witnesses.
The original approval logs.
And evidence identifying who ultimately received the stolen money.
"I want to confront Lila," I said.
Katherine shook her head.
"Not alone."
"I just want answers."
"Which is precisely why you need to be careful."
"She slept with my husband."
"That doesn't make her incapable of telling the truth. But it doesn't make her trustworthy either."
I looked at the photograph again.
The scarf angered me more than I expected.
Adrian's mistress had been wearing something taken from my home.
Something I had chosen for myself.
Even my belongings had become available for someone else's convenience.
"What would you do?" I asked.
Katherine thought for a moment.
"Have your attorney send a formal request to preserve evidence. Then offer her a meeting with counsel present."
"And if she refuses?"
"Then we continue without her."
I nodded.
But later that evening, I received a message from Lila herself.
We need to talk. Graham isn't who you think he is.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
Neither is Adrian.
We met four days later at a quiet hotel near Boston.
Katherine arranged the location.
Lila arrived twenty minutes late.
She wore a camel-colored coat, dark pants, and oversized sunglasses.
Around her neck was the sapphire necklace.
For one extraordinary moment, I wondered whether she had worn it deliberately.
Then I noticed her hands.
They were shaking.
She removed her sunglasses.
"Emily."
"Lila."
She looked toward Katherine.
"I thought we'd be alone."
"My attorney is staying."
Lila swallowed.
"Fine."
We sat at a small table near the window.
The necklace glittered against her collarbone.
I looked at it.
"Does that thing come with a warranty?"
She blinked.
"What?"
"At that price, I'd hope they replace it if the clasp breaks."
Her cheeks reddened.
"Emily, I didn't come here to fight."
"Then perhaps you should have left my husband's birthday present at home."
She glanced down.
For the first time, she looked ashamed.
Slowly, she reached behind her neck and removed it.
She placed it inside her handbag.
"Happy?"
"No. But we can continue."
Katherine opened a notebook.
"Ms. Morgan, why did you contact Mrs. Blackwood?"
Lila took a breath.
"Because Graham is going to blame her."
"For what?"
"The foundation transfers."
"How do you know?"
"Because I helped him access the records."
I sat very still.
Lila's eyes filled with tears.
"I didn't know at first."
I said nothing.
"He hired me eighteen months ago. Consulting work. European clients. Luxury partnerships."
"And an affair with Adrian?" I asked.
Her face tightened.
"That started later."
"How convenient."
"I'm not asking you to forgive me."
"Good."
She looked at the table.
"Graham said the foundation transactions involved legitimate restructuring. He told me the approvals had already been obtained and that he needed me to collect updated authorizations."
"Using my security credentials."
She closed her eyes.
"Yes."
"How did you get them?"
"Adrian let me into the penthouse once while you were visiting your aunt."
The words landed like a physical blow.
I remembered that weekend.
Aunt June had fallen and fractured her wrist.
I had spent three days helping her at home.
Adrian had told me he was working late.
He had brought his mistress into our bedroom.
My face must have changed, because Lila looked away.
"The access card was in your desk," she whispered.
"And my scarf?"
She hesitated.
"Graham told me to wear something associated with you."
Katherine's pen stopped.
"Why?"
"So anyone who saw the security footage might assume I was acting with your permission."
I felt cold all over.
"That was deliberate?"
Lila nodded.
"I didn't understand why until afterward."
Katherine's voice sharpened.
"Ms. Morgan, are you saying Graham instructed you to impersonate Mrs. Blackwood?"
"Not her face. Just her credentials. He said if anyone noticed me, the scarf would make it look as if Emily had sent me."
"Did you know the approval documents were fraudulent?"
"Not at the beginning."
"And later?"
Lila started crying.
"Later, I suspected."
I leaned forward.
"How much did he pay you?"
She stared at me.
"Emily—"
"How much?"
"Eight hundred and fifty thousand dollars in consulting fees."
My mouth went dry.
"And you accepted it."
"Yes."
"Did you know where the money came from?"
"I knew some came through Halcyon. I didn't know it was money meant for children until Graham started threatening me."
I wanted to hate her without complication.
I wanted her to be selfish, cruel, and nothing more.
But looking at her across the table, I saw a frightened woman who had made terrible choices and was finally realizing that expensive gifts couldn't protect her from their consequences.
That didn't excuse her.
It simply made the truth more complicated.
"Why contact me now?" I asked.
Lila opened her handbag.
She removed a small notebook and placed it on the table.
"Because Graham has copies of everything. Messages. Contracts. Payment instructions. And he says if I speak, he'll make sure I go to prison."
Katherine looked at the notebook but didn't touch it.
"Have you retained independent counsel?"
Lila shook her head.
"Not yet."
"You need to do that before giving statements or documents to anyone," Katherine said.
Lila looked at me.
"I kept notes. Dates. Conversations."
"Why?"
"Because Graham frightens me."
I studied her.
"Does Adrian know?"
"He knows Graham arranged some consulting work. He doesn't know about the forged signatures."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because Graham told me exactly what to say if Adrian started asking questions."
She hesitated.
"There's something else."
My pulse quickened.
"What?"
"Your birthday wasn't supposed to be the night he used your credentials."
"Then why was it?"
"Because Graham discovered you'd hired a divorce attorney."
I stared at her.
"How?"
"I don't know. But he knew you'd been asking questions about the foundation, and he knew you were preparing to leave."
Katherine leaned forward.
"When?"
"About three weeks before your birthday."
I remembered the feeling of being watched during my final weeks in Chicago.
The strange telephone calls.
An unfamiliar car parked near the townhouse where I'd met my accountant.
At the time, I had blamed my nerves.
"Why did he choose that night?" I whispered.
Lila looked miserable.
"Because he knew you'd be upset when you discovered the necklace."
The room went silent.
She continued.
"He arranged for the auction house confirmation to be sent to the family office address still associated with your email."
I stared at her.
"Are you saying the receipt wasn't an accident?"
"Graham said it would distract you. He expected you to confront Adrian, maybe leave for a few days. He didn't realize you'd been preparing for months."
My hands closed around the edge of the table.
My birthday.
My husband's affair.
The million-dollar necklace.
Someone had turned the most humiliating night of my life into an opportunity to frame me.
I looked at Lila.
"And you helped him."
She began to cry harder.
"Yes."
I stood.
Katherine touched my arm.
"Emily."
I looked down at the woman across from me.
"You don't get to cry as though you're the person whose life was destroyed."
Lila flinched.
"I know."
"You wore my scarf. You used my identity. You helped steal money from children. And you slept with my husband."
She covered her mouth.
"I know."
I took a breath.
"Then start doing something useful with what you know."
That evening, I walked along the harbor with Tessa.
The sky was pink above the water.
Fishing boats moved slowly toward the docks.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Finally, Tessa asked, "Do you think Lila's telling the truth?"
"Some of it."
"Which parts?"
"The parts that make her look bad."
Tessa nodded.
"That's a reasonable place to start."
I stopped beside a weathered bench.
"Graham knew."
"Knew what?"
"That I was leaving."
"Maybe someone told him."
"Or someone followed me."
Tessa's expression tightened.
"That's possible."
I looked toward the water.
"He used to call me his little sister."
Tessa sighed.
"People can betray you and still remember your birthday."
I laughed bitterly.
"Apparently, some remember it better than husbands."
My phone vibrated.
Katherine.
I answered immediately.
"What's happened?"
"Emily, have you seen the news?"
My stomach dropped.
"No."
"Don't read the comments. Just open the link I'm sending."
I clicked.
The headline filled my screen.
BILLIONAIRE'S MISSING WIFE UNDER SCRUTINY AS $26 MILLION CHARITY DISCREPANCY EMERGES
Beneath it was a photograph of me leaving a Boston medical building.
The article claimed that I had quietly transferred money out of Blackwood Hearts before disappearing.
It mentioned my divorce attorney.
My separate bank accounts.
My newly purchased property.
And my medical appointments.
Someone had leaked pieces of my private life and arranged them into a convincing lie.
At the bottom, an unnamed Blackwood Global executive was quoted as saying:
We are deeply concerned about certain transactions authorized by Mrs. Blackwood shortly before her unexplained departure.
I stared at the screen.
Then my phone rang.
Adrian.
For the first time since leaving Chicago, I answered.
"Emily," he said urgently. "Don't believe everything you're reading."
My voice was almost unrecognizable.
"Did you know about this?"
"Not before it went out."
"Then stop it."
"I'm trying."
I looked at the photograph of myself outside the hospital.
"Adrian, somebody is using my medical care to make me look guilty."
He went silent.
Then he said something I had never heard from him before.
"I'm afraid."
I closed my eyes.
"So am I."
May you like
And that was when I realized the people trying to destroy me were no longer satisfied with stealing my name.
They were stealing my future.
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