Chapter 3: The Secret in the Mercer Family
Alistair chose a small restaurant on the edge of town.
It was the kind of place where nobody cared who walked through the door. No chandeliers. No photographers. No expensive cars parked outside.
I arrived ten minutes early.
He was already there.
His hair was longer than I remembered. His face looked thinner. A cup of untouched coffee sat in front of him.
When he saw me, he stood.
"Eleanor.""
"Sit down.""
He obeyed.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he pushed a brown envelope across the table.
"I brought everything.""
I didn't touch it.
"Start talking.""
He rubbed his forehead.
"I know you probably hate me.""
"You'd be surprised how little energy I have left for hating people.""
He looked down.
"I never wanted this to happen.""
I gave a short laugh.
"That's what everyone says after they've done something terrible.""
He accepted that without argument.
Then he began.
"Camille and I started seeing each other before you found out about her and Roland.""
I stared at him.
"How long?""
"About four months.""
Four months.
Four months of Camille sitting in my kitchen.
Four months of her holding my hand.
Four months of her telling me I would become a mother someday.
I felt sick.
"Did Roland know?""
Alistair hesitated.
"Not at first.""
"Then?""
"He found out.""
"When?""
"Before you filed for divorce.""
I looked at him.
"You're telling me my husband knew his brother was sleeping with his mistress?""
"Yes.""
"And he still married her?""
Alistair nodded.
I leaned back.
"Why?""
He opened the envelope.
Inside were printed emails, bank records, and a copy of a document bearing Roland's signature.
"Because Roland needed something from Camille.""
I studied the papers.
"What?""
"Control of a company.""
I looked up.
Alistair continued.
"Three years ago, our father created a family trust. He divided several assets between us. Roland received the majority of the commercial property holdings. I received a smaller share, along with voting rights on certain decisions.""
I remembered Roland mentioning the trust once.
He'd described it as a complicated family arrangement.
Alistair tapped the document.
"One of the companies was supposed to be transferred to me when I turned thirty-five. Roland didn't want that to happen.""
"Why?""
"Because the company owns the land beneath the new Mercer development. It's worth considerably more than the original valuation.""
I stared at the document.
"And Camille?""
"She worked as Roland's executive assistant for two years before you hired her to help with your business.""
I remembered.
Camille had been the one who recommended our accountant.
She'd introduced me to several suppliers.
She'd even helped prepare documents for my company during its first expansion.
Alistair continued.
"She knew where your business records were. She knew which properties were in your name and which were connected to the Mercer family.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"Are you saying she was stealing from me?""
"I think she was helping Roland.""
I opened the next document.
It was a transfer authorization.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
Except it wasn't my signature.
I stared.
"This isn't mine.""
"I know.""
The document showed that a substantial amount of money had been transferred from a business reserve account into a company connected to Roland.
My name appeared beside the authorization.
"How much?""
"Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars.""
I felt the room tilt.
"That's impossible.""
"I know.""
"That account was supposed to be untouched.""
Alistair nodded.
"Roland used it as collateral for a development loan.""
I looked at the date.
Three weeks before I discovered the affair.
My hands began to shake.
"Why are you showing me this now?""
"Because I have copies of the original records.""
"And why should I believe you?""
He looked at me.
"Because I'm the one who signed the witness statement.""
I stared at him.
He had witnessed the transfer?
He nodded slowly.
"I told myself Roland was borrowing money temporarily. He promised it would be replaced before anyone noticed.""
I felt anger rise in my chest.
"You knew?""
"I didn't know he had forged your signature.""
"But you knew my money was being used.""
"Yes.""
"And you did nothing.""
He lowered his eyes.
"No.""
For the first time since arriving, I felt something close to genuine hatred.
"You sat at my wedding table.""
"I know.""
"You helped me move out.""
"I know.""
"You told me I deserved better.""
His eyes filled.
"I did.""
I pushed the envelope away.
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
He swallowed.
"Because I was afraid.""
"Of Roland?""
"Of losing everything.""
I stood.
Alistair grabbed the edge of the table.
"Please. There's more.""
I looked down at him.
"There's always more with your family.""
He reached into his jacket and pulled out another photograph.
This one showed Roland standing beside Camille outside a hospital.
The date was printed in the corner.
It was taken five weeks before our divorce was finalized.
Camille was holding a folder.
Roland was holding her hand.
Alistair pointed to the folder.
"That's the first prenatal appointment.""
I stared.
"She was already pregnant?""
"Yes.""
"How far along?""
"According to the records, almost three months.""
I looked at the date again.
That meant Camille had been pregnant before she and Roland announced their engagement.
Before the wedding.
Before the photographs.
Before the public declarations about their perfect love story.
"Did Roland know the baby wasn't his?""
Alistair looked away.
"Yes.""
I felt the air leave my lungs.
"How?""
"Because I told him.""
The restaurant seemed to grow quieter.
"You told him?""
"After Camille told me she was pregnant, I asked for a paternity test. She refused. Roland eventually confronted me.""
"And?""
Alistair's jaw tightened.
"He said it didn't matter.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"He said the baby would carry the Mercer name. He said the family needed an heir, and he was willing to raise the child.""
I almost laughed.
"An heir?""
"That's what he called it.""
"Your brother wanted to raise your child as his own?""
Alistair nodded.
"And he wanted Camille to marry him.""
I looked at the documents again.
Suddenly, several things made sense.
Roland had never wanted a child with me because he knew he couldn't have one.
But he'd spent years blaming me anyway.
He'd wanted a marriage that looked perfect.
A wife who could be publicly blamed for infertility.
And eventually, a woman who could give him an heir, regardless of whose blood ran through the child's veins.
"Why would Camille agree?""
Alistair looked at me.
"Because Roland promised her something.""
"What?""
"The Mercer estate.""
I stared.
"The family house?""
"Among other things. He promised her a financial settlement and control over the development company once the baby was born.""
I slowly sat down.
"And what did you want?""
He didn't answer.
"Alistair, what did you want?""
His voice cracked.
"I wanted my child.""
For the first time, I believed him.
Not because he deserved sympathy.
But because I recognized the expression on his face.
It was the look of someone who had allowed another person to make decisions about his life until there was almost nothing left to claim.
I gathered the papers.
"You're going to give these to Beatrix.""
"Yes.""
"And you'll testify?""
"Yes.""
I stood again.
As I reached for my bag, Alistair spoke.
"Eleanor, there's one more thing.""
I turned.
"Roland doesn't just want Camille's baby.""
"What else does he want?""
He slid a final document across the table.
It was a copy of a legal filing.
My company name appeared at the top.
I read the heading twice.
*Petition for recovery of marital business assets.*
The filing had been prepared two weeks earlier.
Roland was claiming that my company had been funded using marital assets and that he was entitled to a controlling interest.
I looked up.
"He's suing me?""
Alistair nodded.
"And he's planning to announce it at the baby shower.""
My fingers tightened around the paper.
"Why?""
"Because he thinks you'll be too embarrassed to fight him publicly.""
I looked at the date.
The baby shower was scheduled for Saturday.
Three days away.
May you like
Then Alistair said something that made my blood run cold.
"Camille knows about the lawsuit, Eleanor. She was the one who suggested inviting you.""
