Chapter 3

I didn't reply to Gemma's text. Responding would give her the satisfaction she craved. Instead, a cold, clear purpose began to form in the ruins of my heart. I needed to see it all for myself. Not just in pictures, but in person. I needed the truth to burn away every last shred of hope.

The next morning, after Knox left, I drove to a small town an hour away from the city. I knew from a brief mention in a society column years ago that Gemma's mother had owned a small cottage there. I also knew that one of the Steele family's long-time housekeepers, Maria, had been abruptly reassigned to that cottage after a vocal disagreement with Gemma. Maria had always been kind to me.

I found her in the town's local market. She looked older, more tired. When she saw me, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Mrs. Steele? What are you doing here?"

I didn't waste time. I offered her money, a significant amount, enough to retire comfortably. "I need to get into the cottage, Maria. Just for an hour. I need to see it."

Her face hardened at the mention of Gemma. "That woman is a devil," she muttered. "She treats everyone like dirt. But Mr. Knox... he lets her get away with everything." She looked at the cash I held out. "I can't let you in when they are there. But they are going to the town fair this afternoon. For the boy's birthday. They should be gone for a few hours."

She agreed. For the money, and for a small measure of revenge against the woman who had made her life miserable.

Later that day, dressed in a plain janitorial uniform I bought from a supply store, a baseball cap pulled low over my face, I followed Maria to the cottage. It was a large, secluded property, hidden behind a tall gate and a wall of trees. A fortress for their secret life.

Maria let me in through a service entrance. The first thing I saw as I stepped into the foyer stopped me dead.

Hanging on the main wall was a massive, oil-painted family portrait.

Knox, Gemma, Jase, and Douglas. They were all there, smiling, immortalized in paint. Knox had his hand on Jase' s shoulder. Gemma leaned against him, her expression triumphant. Douglas stood behind them, a benevolent patriarch presiding over his true dynasty. I wasn't just excluded; I was erased.

"They had it commissioned last year," Maria said quietly, her voice full of pity. "Mr. Steele said it was to celebrate 'family continuity'."

My chest felt tight, as if a band was constricting around my lungs. Maria led me through the house under the pretense of showing me what needed cleaning. She pointed out a silver rattle on a shelf.

"Mr. Steele had that custom-made for Jase's first birthday," she explained. "Solid silver, with the Steele family crest."

I remembered when I was pregnant, years ago, a pregnancy that ended in a miscarriage shortly after the "accident." I had asked Douglas if there were any family heirlooms, something small I could have as a keepsake for our child. He had coldly informed me that the Steeles were not sentimental.

Maria then pointed to a small, crudely carved wooden boat on the mantelpiece. "Mr. Steele made that for him himself. Spends hours with the boy in his workshop whenever he visits."

Douglas, the man who couldn't be bothered to have a five-minute conversation with me, spent hours carving a toy for a child he was pretending didn't exist to the rest of the world.

"He dotes on that boy," Maria added, shaking her head. "Talks about him being the future of the company. Says he's smarter than any of his other grandchildren."

The pain was sharp and visceral. He didn't just have a secret family; he had a favorite one.

I continued my fake cleaning, moving into what was clearly Knox's and Gemma's shared bedroom. On the nightstand, a silver frame held a photo of Knox and Jase, both grinning, on a fishing trip. I opened a drawer. It was filled with more photos. Dozens of them. Every holiday, every milestone, every "business trip" Knox had ever taken was documented here, with them. The lies piled up, image by image, until I was drowning in them.

Just then, I heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. They were back early.

"They're here!" Maria hissed, her eyes wide with panic. "Quick, hide in the pantry!"

I scrambled into the small, dark space just as the front door opened. Laughter filled the house.

"Did you have fun, birthday boy?" I heard Knox say.

"The best!" Jase shouted.

I peeked through the slats in the pantry door. I saw them walk past, a perfect picture of domestic bliss. Jase was holding a giant stuffed bear. Knox had his arm around Gemma's waist.

They settled in the living room, just feet from my hiding spot. I could hear every word.

"I can't wait until we don't have to hide anymore," Gemma said, her voice dropping. "When are you going to get rid of her, Knox? It's been five years."

My blood froze. Get rid of me.

"I told you, I'll handle it," Knox said, his tone placating. "Dad and I have a plan. We just need to wait for the right time. The Steele Media merger is at a critical stage. Any hint of a scandal, especially a messy divorce, could kill the deal."

So that's what I was. A placeholder until a business deal was done. An obstacle to be "handled."

My world, which had been cracking all day, shattered completely. There was no love. No penance. Just cold, hard calculation.

Tears streamed down my face in the darkness of the pantry. I had to get out. I waited until they moved toward the kitchen, and I made a run for the back door.

As I slipped out into the garden, I fumbled with the latch on the gate. It was stuck.

"Who's there?"

I froze. It was Knox's voice. He was coming out the back door.

I yanked harder at the gate, my heart pounding. It finally gave way. I didn't look back. I just ran.

I heard his footsteps behind me, getting closer. "Hey! Stop!"

I scrambled into my car, which I'd parked down the street, and fumbled with the keys. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely fit the key in the ignition.

He was almost at the car. I could see his face through the window, a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

I finally got the engine to start and slammed my foot on the gas. The car lurched forward. In the rearview mirror, I saw him standing in the middle of the road, staring after me, his face a dark silhouette against the setting sun. He didn't recognize me in the janitor's uniform, but I knew the seed of doubt had been planted. He had seen something.