Chapter 3 - The Secret Olivia Used to Control My Husband
I couldn't sleep that night.
I sat at my father’s kitchen table until three in the morning studying the photograph.
The date was seven years before my wedding.
Ethan was twenty-six.
Olivia was twenty-four.
The building behind them looked like an apartment complex.
A fire had destroyed most of it.
There were firefighters.
Police.
People wrapped in blankets.
And a man in the background being arrested.
I zoomed in.
I recognized him.
Ethan’s father.
Charles Whitmore.
My stomach turned.
The Whitmore family was wealthy.
Private equity.
Hotels.
Commercial real estate.
But Ethan had always described his father as difficult.
They rarely spoke.
After the fire, Charles had disappeared from public life.
I had never asked why.
At eight in the morning, Rebecca called.
“I found something.”
“What?”
“The fire.”
I sat up.
“The official report says electrical failure.”
“That was the original conclusion.”
“And the truth?”
“There was evidence of arson.”
I closed my eyes.
“Who did it?”
“We don't know.”
She continued.
“But the building belonged to a Whitmore subsidiary.”
“And?”
“Six people died.”
I felt sick.
“Six?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“Three were employees of Charles Whitmore.”
“Who were the others?”
“Olivia’s younger sister was one of them.”
The room went silent.
Suddenly, everything made sense.
Olivia's desperation.
Her dependence on Ethan.
The promise never to abandon her.
But that still didn't explain the kiss.
Or the financial arrangement.
Or the fact that Ethan had chosen her over me.
I drove to Olivia’s condominium.
I didn't tell Ethan.
I didn't tell Rebecca.
I went alone.
Olivia opened the door.
She was wearing expensive silk pajamas and holding a glass of wine.
She looked at me.
Then smiled.
“I wondered when you would come.”
I froze.
“You knew I was investigating?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“Because Ethan told me everything.”
My heart sank.
“Everything?”
“About you. About the divorce. About Rebecca.”
She stepped aside.
“Come in.”
I entered.
The apartment was enormous.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
Expensive furniture.
A Christmas tree decorated in silver.
And on the wall was a photograph.
Ethan and Olivia.
Laughing.
Young.
Happy.
I looked at her.
“Did you love him?”
She smiled faintly.
“Once.”
My stomach tightened.
“And now?”
“That’s complicated.”
I almost laughed.
“Everyone around him uses that word.”
She poured herself more wine.
“Do you know what happened the night of the fire?”
“Your sister died.”
“Yes.”
“Was Ethan responsible?”
“No.”
“Was his father?”
Her face changed.
“He covered it up.”
“How?”
Charles had been involved with a corrupt contractor who used unsafe materials and falsified inspection reports.
When the building caught fire, the company tried to hide the evidence.
Olivia’s sister and several others were killed.
Ethan had discovered what happened.
He wanted to expose his father.
Charles threatened him.
Then Olivia became a target.
Ethan protected her.
That explained the promise.
But not everything.
“Why the money?”
Olivia looked at me.
“Because the company owed my family compensation.”
“Then why wasn't it paid legally?”
“Because the Whitmore lawyers buried the case.”
She took a long breath.
“So Ethan built a private fund to support me.”
“That still doesn't explain the hotel.”
“He wanted to give me a safe place to meet people who could help reopen the case.”
I stared.
“Then why were you at the hotel on Christmas Eve?”
“Because I had evidence.”
“What evidence?”
She looked at me.
“The person who ordered the fire.”
My heart raced.
“Who?”
She hesitated.
Then said:
“Ethan’s uncle.”
I blinked.
“Richard Whitmore?”
She nodded.
“That’s why Ethan keeps protecting me.”
“From Richard?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Ethan didn't want you involved.”
I stared at her.
“He told me not to tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because if you knew what was happening, you would become a target too.”
I almost lost my temper.
“So all of you decided I was safer in the dark?”
“That wasn't your husband’s only reason.”
“What was the other reason?”
Olivia looked away.
“He was afraid you'd leave him.”
I laughed.
“Funny.”
She looked back at me.
“He loves you.”
I said nothing.
“He has always loved you.”
“Then why did he let you kiss him?”
Her face fell.
“I kissed him because I thought I was saying goodbye.”
“What?”
“I had planned to leave Boston.”
She sat down.
“I had found enough evidence to put Richard away. Ethan helped me get it. He thought that after it was done, I would disappear.”
I looked at the woman I had blamed for four years.
“You kissed him because you were leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't he stop you?”
“I don't know.”
Neither did I.
Maybe he was shocked.
Maybe he was exhausted.
Maybe some part of him still carried the years of loyalty between them.
Or maybe there was something else.
I stood.
“Where is the evidence?”
Olivia hesitated.
“You can't tell Ethan.”
“Why?”
“Because someone inside his company knows about it.”
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“You.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“The person I called the day before the hotel…”
She stopped.
“What?”
“I never called Ethan.”
The room went silent.
“What do you mean?”
Olivia stared at me.
“Someone used my phone.”
I felt a chill.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Then who asked Ethan to come?”
Her eyes filled with fear.
“I don't know.”
My phone rang.
Ethan.
I answered.
“Claire, where are you?”
“At Olivia’s.”
Silence.
Then his voice became dangerously calm.
“Get out.”
“Why?”
“Now.”
“Ethan—”
“Claire, listen to me. Richard knows you went there.”
My blood ran cold.
“How?”
“I'll explain later.”
A loud crash came from Olivia’s hallway.
Olivia’s face turned white.
“He’s here.”
Ethan shouted through the phone.
“Run.”
The apartment door exploded inward.
A man in a black coat stepped through.
He raised a gun.
Olivia screamed.
I froze.
May you like
Then someone grabbed me from behind.
And the last thing I heard before darkness swallowed me was Ethan shouting my name through the phone.
