Chapter 7: The Enemy Inside the Family
I read Cordelia’s message three times.
*And Charles is not the person you need to fear.*
For years, I had believed the greatest danger in my life was a broken heart.
I thought betrayal was the worst thing a person could experience.
I thought the most painful discovery would always be finding out that the man you loved had chosen someone else.
I was wrong.
Because there was something far more terrifying than losing someone.
It was realizing you never truly knew the people around you.
I looked at the door.
Charles was still standing outside.
The man I had spent twelve years sleeping beside.
The man who knew my fears, my dreams, my habits.
The man who had shattered my trust.
But now, somehow, he might also be the only person standing between me and something worse.
I hated that.
I hated that my heart still reacted when I heard his voice.
I hated that part of me wanted to believe him.
“You need to leave,” I said.
Charles was silent.
Then:
“I know.””
The answer surprised me.
“You know?””
“Yes.””
“Then why are you still here?””
“Because I needed to see that you were safe.””
I looked at Phoebe.
She shook her head slightly.
Don’t believe him.
Maybe she was right.
Maybe she wasn’t.
I had no idea anymore.
“Charles,” I said, “tell me the truth.””
“I have been.””
“No.””
My voice hardened.
“You have been telling me pieces.””
Silence.
“The pieces that protect you.””
Another pause.
Then:
“You’re right.””
The admission was quiet.
Almost painful.
I opened the door.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Charles stood on the other side.
For the first time since I knew him, he looked different.
Not powerful.
Not untouchable.
Exhausted.
His hair was slightly messy. His expensive coat was wrinkled. His eyes looked like he hadn’t slept.
But I refused to let that affect me.
“You have five minutes.””
He nodded.
“That’s fair.””
He stepped inside.
Phoebe immediately moved away.
The tension between them filled the room.
Charles looked at her.
“Are you hurt?””
Phoebe laughed bitterly.
“Now you ask?””
His expression changed.
Guilt.
Real guilt.
“I’m sorry.””
She looked away.
I almost interrupted.
Almost.
Because I had never heard Charles apologize to anyone.
Not truly.
He looked at me.
“I know this doesn’t fix anything.””
“No.””
“I know I don’t deserve your trust.””
“No.””
“I know you hate me.””
I stared at him.
“I don’t hate you.””
That surprised him.
It surprised me too.
I took a breath.
“I wish I did.””
Charles looked down.
Because he understood.
Hate meant there was still passion.
Still connection.
What I felt was worse.
Loss.
“What happened to Richard?”” I asked.
Charles’s face changed immediately.
The question hit him harder than anything else.
“My father discovered someone was stealing from the company.””
“Your uncle?””
He looked at me.
So did Phoebe.
“You know?””
“Tell me.””
Charles sat down.
For a moment, he looked like a man carrying something too heavy.
“My uncle, Victor Stanhope, was supposed to inherit the company.””
“The man from the video?””
“Yes.””
“But he died.””
“That’s what everyone believed.””
I crossed my arms.
“And what do you believe?””
Charles looked toward the window.
“I believe my father found out Victor was alive.””
The room went silent.
“Why would he fake his death?””
“Because he was involved in things that could destroy the family.””
“What things?””
Charles hesitated.
Then:
“Fraud. Manipulation. Illegal transfers.””
My eyes narrowed.
“And Richard tried to expose him.””
“Yes.””
“And then Richard died.””
Charles nodded.
The silence after that was unbearable.
“Are you saying your uncle killed your father?””
“I’m saying I don’t know.””
That answer frustrated me.
“You don’t know?””
“No.””
“Charles, your father died.””
“I know.””
“And you’re telling me you don’t know if it was murder?””
His jaw tightened.
“Because I was warned not to investigate.””
“By who?””
He looked at me.
“My mother.””
I froze.
Cordelia.
The woman who had just apologized.
The woman who told me I was in danger.
“She knew?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn’t she tell anyone?””
“Because she was protecting me.””
I stared at him.
“She protected you by letting everyone believe your father died naturally?””
“She believed if the truth came out, the family would collapse.””
I shook my head.
“That sounds like something Cordelia would do.””
Charles looked away.
“And I inherited that weakness from her.””
The honesty was uncomfortable.
Because it didn’t sound like manipulation.
It sounded like regret.
Phoebe spoke quietly.
“Why did you bring me into this?””
Charles looked at her.
“I didn’t mean to.””
Her eyes filled with anger.
“You don’t get to say that.””
“I know.””
“No, you don’t.””
She stepped closer.
“You destroyed my career.””
“I know.””
“You made me believe you loved me.””
“I know.””
“You made me carry two children while you were planning to throw me away.””
Charles closed his eyes.
The pain on his face was visible.
“I know.””
Phoebe laughed.
A broken sound.
“Do you know the worst part?””
Charles looked at her.
“I thought Hannah was the obstacle.””
My chest tightened.
Phoebe wiped her eyes.
“I thought if you could just leave her, everything would be perfect.””
She looked at me.
“I thought I was winning.””
Nobody spoke.
Because that was the truth.
She had not only been used by Charles.
She had also been trapped by her own belief that she was chosen.
Charles stood.
“I never wanted to hurt either of you.””
I looked at him.
“But you did.””
“Yes.””
The answer came immediately.
Again.
No defense.
No excuses.
Just acceptance.
My phone buzzed.
All three of us looked at it.
A message.
From Evelyn.
*Are you with Charles?*
I typed:
*Yes.*
The response came instantly.
*Leave him. Now.*
My stomach tightened.
I showed Charles.
His expression changed.
“What?””
“Evelyn says I should leave.””
Charles stared at the message.
Then he whispered:
“She knows.””
“Knows what?””
He looked at me.
“The plan.””
“What plan?””
Before he could answer, the hotel room phone rang.
Nobody moved.
The sound was sharp.
Wrong.
The kind of sound that made your body react before your mind did.
Charles looked at the phone.
“Don’t answer.””
I stared at him.
“Why?””
“Because no one should know we’re together.””
The phone continued ringing.
Phoebe looked terrified.
Then the ringing stopped.
A second later, my phone received a voicemail notification.
Unknown number.
I pressed play.
A woman’s voice filled the room.
Evelyn.
But she sounded different.
Afraid.
“Hannah, if you are hearing this, it means I couldn’t reach you.””
A pause.
Then:
“Do not trust Charles.””
My eyes moved toward him.
Charles went still.
The message continued.
“I made the same mistake you did. I believed he was trying to protect people.””
A shaky breath.
“He isn’t.””
My heart started racing.
“Hannah, listen carefully. The divorce agreement was not created to transfer the company to you.””
I looked at Charles.
He looked confused.
Like he was hearing this for the first time.
“It was created to remove your name from something much more dangerous.””
The room became silent.
Then Evelyn said:
“Charles didn’t betray you because he stopped loving you.””
A pause.
“He betrayed you because he was ordered to.””
I froze.
Ordered.
By who?
The voicemail continued.
“And the person who gave him the order…”
The recording cut off.
Static.
Then silence.
I looked at Charles.
His face had gone completely pale.
Because he knew.
He knew who it was.
“Charles.””
He didn’t answer.
“Who ordered you?””
Slowly, he looked toward the door.
Not at me.
Not at Phoebe.
At the hallway outside.
Then he whispered:
“My mother.””
The room went cold.
And at that exact moment, someone knocked.
Three slow taps.
The same way Charles had knocked.
But this time, Charles looked terrified.
May you like
Because he knew who was standing outside.
And it wasn’t Cordelia.
