He placed a muffin on my tray.

“Your mother would have been furious with me,” he said.

I looked up.

“Why?”

“For allowing you to drift so far away.”

I shook my head.

“You didn’t allow anything. I made choices.”

He sat.

“Yes. And now you get to make new ones.”

We ate quietly.

Then I asked the question that had been troubling me all morning.

“Daddy, did you know Daniel was using your investment to keep his company alive?”

My father considered his answer.

“I knew the company remained heavily dependent on outside financing. I didn’t know the full extent of the suspected irregularities.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you asked me not to interfere in your marriage, and because I believed you had access to the information you needed.”

I looked down.

“I thought I was helping him.”

“You were.”

“Then why wasn’t it enough?”

My father leaned forward.

“Emily, someone who believes they’re entitled to everything you give will never be satisfied by how much you give.”

I let that settle.

Then I whispered, “I don’t think Daniel ever loved me.”

My father didn’t rush to answer.

Finally, he said, “I can’t tell you what he felt. I can tell you what he did. And what he did was wrong.”

I nodded.

That was enough.

Around three o’clock, Olivia Grant arrived.

She looked nervous, carrying a bouquet of yellow flowers and a paper envelope.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said.

“Not at all.”

She approached my bed.

“Emily, I’m so sorry.”

I smiled sadly.

“You already helped me yesterday.”

“Not enough.”

I watched her struggle with her words.

Finally, she sat.

“I should have intervened when Daniel grabbed you.”

“You were frightened.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“No,” I said gently. “But telling the truth afterward mattered.”

She nodded.

Then she placed the envelope on my bed.

“I have something you should see.”

Inside was a printed photograph.

Daniel stood beside a beautiful brunette woman in a white blazer.

His arm was wrapped around her waist.

They were standing outside a beachfront restaurant.

The woman was kissing his cheek.

I recognized her immediately.

Victoria Lane.

My husband’s so-called business associate.

I stared at the photograph.

“When was this taken?”

“Three weeks ago.”

“Where?”

“Palm Beach.”

My throat tightened.

Daniel had told me he was in Chicago negotiating a hotel development.

Olivia looked miserable.

“I was there for a wedding. I saw them at dinner.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She looked down.

“Because Margaret found out I’d seen them. She called me and said if I repeated anything, she’d make sure my father’s firm lost its contracts with Whitmore Development.”

I leaned back against my pillow.

“She knew?”

Olivia nodded.

“Everyone close to the family knew.”

Those words hurt more than I expected.

Everyone.

The women who smiled at me during charity luncheons.

The business associates who complimented our marriage.

The friends who told me how lucky I was.

They knew.

And they watched me sit beside Daniel, smiling for photographs, while he betrayed me.

Olivia wiped her eyes.

“There’s something else.”

I braced myself.

“Margaret told people Victoria was going to become Daniel’s next wife.”

The room went silent.

I felt my heartbeat pounding behind my ears.

“Next wife?”

Olivia nodded.

“She said you were going to be out of the picture before Christmas.”

I stared at her.

It was October.

Two months before Christmas.

Suddenly, the financing documents made terrible sense.

If Daniel could use my assets to support his company, then discard me once the borrowing was complete, he might leave me trapped in a financial nightmare while he moved on with Victoria.

It was an ugly possibility.

One we needed to investigate.

I picked up the photograph.

“Can Rebecca have a copy?”

“Absolutely.”

Then Olivia looked at me with an expression I couldn’t understand.

“Emily, I think you should know something about Victoria.”

“What?”

“She’s not just Daniel’s girlfriend.”

A chill traveled down my spine.

“What do you mean?”

Olivia lowered her voice.

“Her real last name isn’t Lane.”

I frowned.

“Then what is it?”

Olivia swallowed.

“Whitmore.”

I stared at her.

“That’s impossible.”

She shook her head.

“Her name is Victoria Whitmore. And according to the documents I saw, she’s connected to a part of your husband’s family that Margaret has spent more than thirty years pretending doesn’t exist.”

I looked toward the door.

My father was standing there.

He had heard the last sentence.

And judging by his expression, the name meant something to him.

“Emily,” he said quietly, “I think it’s time you learned what happened to Daniel’s grandfather’s missing fortune.”

Chapter 5 – The Woman Who Was Never Supposed to Exist”Victoria Whitmore?”