Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Wanted My Life
I did not invite Alexander upstairs.
Instead, we walked to a café three blocks from my office.
Public.
Crowded.
Safe.
The irony was not lost on me.
For years, Alexander had been the dangerous person in every room.
Now I needed strangers nearby because I did not trust what grief might do to either of us.
He ordered black coffee.
I ordered tea and never touched it.
The photograph lay between us.
Olivia.
Michael.
Alexander’s missing phone.
“I need every detail,” I said.
He nodded.
“For months after you left, I couldn’t look at anything connected to that day.”
His voice was low.
“I couldn’t walk into the club. Couldn’t speak to the staff. I didn’t want explanations because explanations felt like excuses.”
“That part I understand.”
“One of my security men, Caleb, kept copies of the surveillance recordings anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s his job.”
Alexander rubbed his hands together.
“I watched them in February.”
“And?”
“I arrived at Olivia’s party at two-forty.”
I knew enough about the timeline to feel my chest tighten.
Grace’s school ended at two-thirty.
“I should have been leaving for the school.”
“Yes.”
He accepted the words without flinching.
“Michael reminded me about a shipping problem at the south docks. I took a call. Olivia came over and said Madison needed help with the decorations. I put my phone on a table.”
“And forgot about Grace.”
“Yes.”
“What happened next?”
“Olivia picked up my phone.”
“Maybe she thought it was hers.”
“She unlocked it.”
I stared at him.
“How?”
Alexander looked ashamed.
“She knew my code.”
Of course she did.
I looked away.
He continued.
“She carried the phone into the hallway. Michael joined her.”
“And the school called then?”
“The first time, yes.”
I felt sick.
“How do you know?”
“My phone records.”
“Did she answer?”
“No.”
“She ignored it?”
“Yes.”
“Did she know the school?”
“The caller ID displayed the name.”
I shut my eyes.
Grace Hayes Preschool.
There was no way Olivia had not understood.
“The second call went to Michael’s line,” Alexander said.
“He answered?”
“Yes.”
“What did the teacher say?”
“I found Mrs. Nolan. She told him Grace was waiting and asked whether someone was coming.”
My hands began shaking.
“And what did Michael say?”
“That I was on my way.”
I stared at him.
“He lied.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Alexander’s face hardened.
“I don’t know.”
I thought about Olivia wearing my necklace.
Olivia attending the meetings I was forbidden to attend.
Olivia standing beneath birthday balloons while my daughter waited for her father.
“Where is she now?”
“In Chicago.”
“She knows you’re investigating?”
“Not officially.”
“Alexander.”
“She knows something changed.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“Good.”
My eyes snapped to his.
“No. Not good.”
He immediately looked away.
“You’re right.”
That small correction affected me more than it should have.
Old Alexander would have defended the statement.
This version seemed constantly aware that one wrong step could make me disappear forever.
“What does your mother know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Madison?”
“She’s helping me.”
“Olivia?”
“She claims she doesn’t remember touching the phone.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Convenient.”
“Yes.”
For the next hour, Alexander laid out everything he had uncovered.
Michael Trent had worked for him for seven years.
He handled private scheduling, sensitive calls, and family arrangements.
Three months before Grace died, Michael began receiving large deposits through a consulting company registered in Delaware.
The source was hidden behind several shell corporations.
Alexander’s financial team traced the money to an investment account connected to Olivia’s father.
That alone proved nothing.
Olivia’s father had business dealings with the Hayes family.
But the timing was suspicious.
Then there were messages.
Not direct messages between Olivia and Michael.
Those had been deleted.
But backups revealed fragments.
Keep her away from him.
She is ruining everything.
He will remember what matters when the distraction is gone.
The last line made my skin crawl.
“What does ‘distraction’ mean?” I asked.
Alexander’s face looked carved from stone.
“I don’t know.”
“You have an idea.”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
He hesitated.
“Either you.”
I waited.
“Or Grace.”
The café suddenly felt too warm.
I stood.
Alexander rose.
“I need air.”
We walked outside.
My heart was racing.
“No.”
“Emily—”
“No. I will not let you turn this into some conspiracy because you can’t live with what you did.”
“I know what I did.”
“Do you?”
His face tightened.
“I wake up knowing.”
“You forgot her.”
“Yes.”
“You made a promise to her.”
“Yes.”
“You chose Olivia’s party.”
“Yes.”
“Even if Olivia ignored one call, you were still supposed to remember your own child.”
“Yes.”
His agreement made me angrier.
“Stop saying yes.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to argue.”
He stared at me.
I realized I was crying.
“I want you to give me something to fight.”
“I can’t.”
His voice cracked.
“Because you’re right.”
I wiped my face.
People passed us on the sidewalk.
No one knew the man beside me could order half of Chicago to stop moving.
No one cared.
That was why I loved Toronto.
Alexander looked toward the street.
“I used to think power meant never having to depend on anyone.”
He laughed without humor.
“Turns out I depended on everyone.”
I said nothing.
“My assistants remembered my meetings. Drivers remembered routes. Security remembered threats. You remembered Grace.”
His eyes returned to mine.
“And I started believing important things would always be handled because someone else handled them.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“No.”
“I need you to understand that.”
“I do.”
We stood in silence.
Finally I said, “What happens now?”
“I find Michael.”
“And Olivia?”
“I watch her.”
I looked at him sharply.
“No violence.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“If you find out she had anything to do with what happened to Grace, you do not kill her.”
“Emily.”
“I mean it.”
He said nothing.
“Alexander.”
“She may have caused our daughter’s death.”
“And if you murder her, Grace is still dead.”
His jaw tightened.
“You think prison is enough?”
“I think you don’t get to use Grace as an excuse to become worse.”
Those words hit him.
He looked away.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.
“I won’t kill her.”
“Or Michael.”
Another silence.
“I won’t kill him.”
I believed he meant it.
Whether he could keep the promise was another question.
Before leaving Toronto, Alexander asked to see Grace’s urn.
I refused.
He accepted it.
Then he asked something else.
“Can I give you this?”
He removed a small wooden box from his coat.
Inside was a bracelet made of cheap plastic beads.
GRACE.
I knew it immediately.
She had made it at preschool.
“She gave me this the week before she died,” he said.
“I found it in my desk.”
My fingers trembled.
“She told me I had to wear it.”
“She told everyone what to do.”
A faint smile touched my mouth before I could stop it.
Alexander looked at that smile as if seeing sunlight after years underground.
Then the smile vanished.
I closed the box.
“Keep it.”
His expression fell.
“She made it for you.”
“I don’t deserve it.”
“That isn’t your decision.”
He looked at me.
“She loved you.”
His eyes filled.
I hated myself for saying it.
I also needed him to hear it.
Grace had loved her father.
Her death did not erase that.
He took the box.
“Thank you.”
He left that night.
For the next two weeks, I heard nothing.
Then Madison called.
This time, I answered.
“Emily?”
Her voice sounded frightened.
“What happened?”
“Olivia knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That Alexander found the money trail.”
My stomach tightened.
“How?”
“I don’t know. But she showed up at Mom’s house screaming.”
“Screaming about what?”
“You.”
Of course.
Madison continued.
“She said you poisoned him against her. She said you always hated her because she knew him first.”
I almost laughed.
“She can have him.”
“I told her that.”
Despite everything, I smiled slightly.
Then Madison’s voice changed.
“Emily, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Mom defended her.”
I went still.
“Victoria?”
“She told Alexander to stop investigating.”
“Why?”
“She said some truths destroy families.”
Cold moved through me.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
But we both knew it meant something.
A day later, Alexander called.
“I found Michael.”
My heart jumped.
“Where?”
“Detroit.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Did you speak to him?”
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“He ran.”
“From your men?”
“Yes.”
I sat down at my kitchen table.
“Alexander.”
“I told them not to hurt him.”
“That doesn’t mean he believes you.”
“He should.”
“Why?”
A pause.
“Because I’m trying.”
I almost laughed.
“Your reputation has a longer memory than your intentions.”
He exhaled.
“That sounded like you.”
“What?”
“The Emily I knew before…”
He stopped.
Before Grace died.
Before us died.
I looked toward the urn on my shelf.
“Don’t.”
“Sorry.”
“What happens if you catch him?”
“I ask questions.”
“And if he refuses?”
“I ask better questions.”
“Alexander.”
“No violence.”
“Good.”
His next words were almost too quiet to hear.
“You’re the only reason I’m learning restraint.”
“Then learn it for yourself.”
That night, I could not sleep.
At two in the morning, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
A man whispered, “Mrs. Hayes?”
My blood turned cold.
“Who is this?”
“Michael Trent.”
I stood so fast my chair fell backward.
“How did you get this number?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“Where are you?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Alexander is looking for you.”
“I know.”
“Why did you lie to the preschool?”
Silence.
“Michael.”
“I didn’t know she would leave.”
My knees weakened.
“You knew Grace was waiting.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was told Mr. Hayes would handle it.”
“By who?”
Silence.
“Olivia?”
His breathing changed.
I knew.
“What did she tell you?”
“She said someone else was going for Grace.”
“Who?”
“She never said.”
“And you believed her?”
“I was being paid.”
I closed my eyes.
“How much?”
“Enough.”
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I asked, “Why call me?”
“Because Olivia wasn’t supposed to hurt the child.”
My entire body went still.
“What did you say?”
“She said the child wasn’t part of it.”
“Part of what?”
“Getting rid of you.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Michael continued.
“She wanted Alexander free.”
“Free?”
“She wanted your marriage destroyed.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“So Grace’s death was an accident?”
“Yes.”
I breathed.
Then Michael said:
“At least, that’s what I believed.”
My heart stopped.
“What does that mean?”
“There was a second plan.”
“What second plan?”
“I never agreed to it.”
“Michael.”
“She wanted you to think Alexander had abandoned Grace.”
“He did.”
“No.”
His voice shook.
“She wanted more than that.”
“What?”
“She wanted Grace gone long enough to make you leave him.”
My vision blurred.
“Gone where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Michael.”
“I swear.”
“You expect me to believe you?”
“No.”
“What happened after Grace left the school?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why are you hiding?”
“Because someone tried to kill me three days after Alexander started asking questions.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Then a sound came through the line.
A door.
Michael gasped.
“Oh God.”
“What?”
The call went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Ten seconds later, I called Alexander.
He answered immediately.
“Emily?”
“Michael just called me.”
Silence.
May you like
Then Alexander’s voice became the voice Chicago feared.
“Tell me everything.”
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