Chapter 12 - The Secret Eleanor Couldn’t Take Back
Julian released his mother.
“What did you just say?”
Eleanor realized instantly that she had gone too far.
She tried to retreat.
Julian blocked her.
“Answer me.”
“I was upset.”
“No. What did you mean?”
I opened the envelope.
Inside was not a medical report.
Not a photograph.
Not anything concerning my pregnancy directly.
It was a contract.
Signed four years earlier.
Before Julian and I married.
Thomas recognized it.
Rebecca read over my shoulder.
The document involved a private agreement between Eleanor, Preston, and Martin Cole.
They had invested in a business venture.
But there was a fourth investor.
Someone whose name had been redacted from the copy.
The contract included an unusual provision.
If Julian married into certain financial circumstances, Eleanor would provide introductions and information that could facilitate future investment access.
Julian stared at his mother.
“You sold information about me?”
She cried.
“It wasn't like that.”
“What did they know about Claire?”
“I didn't know who you were going to marry!”
“But after I married her?”
Silence.
“You told them.”
Eleanor broke.
She had bragged about me.
My background.
My old company.
My property.
She gave Martin enough clues to realize who I really was.
Then he began manipulating her.
Encouraging resentment.
Convincing her I was hiding money from Julian.
Convincing Julian that his salary should go to his mother.
The conflict itself had become useful.
If our marriage collapsed chaotically, forged claims against assets could be disguised among legitimate divorce disputes.
Rebecca understood first.
“They wanted you fighting.”
I nodded.
Julian looked devastated.
His cruelty was still his own.
Nobody forced him to throw dinner at me.
Nobody forced him to humiliate me.
But somebody had happily fed his worst instincts.
Then my phone buzzed.
Building security.
“Mrs. Hayes?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a gentleman downstairs asking for Mrs. Eleanor Hayes.”
Eleanor went rigid.
“Name?”
The guard answered.
“Martin Cole.”
Rebecca and I stared at each other.
“Do not send him up.”
A pause.
“Ma’am…”
“What?”
“He’s already in the private elevator.”
May you like
Behind us—
DING.
