Chapter 15: The Mother-in-Law's Card

The Ashford estate was already awake before sunrise.

Staff hurried through the corridors carrying floral arrangements and guest lists.

The gala was only two days away.

Everyone had a task.

Everyone except me.

I left the guest room carrying Nathaniel's diary inside my handbag.

The wardrobe remained locked.

No one needed to know what was hidden inside.

When I entered the breakfast room, Eleanor was already seated.

Damien stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows reading something on his tablet.

Neither greeted me.

I poured myself a cup of coffee.

"You're late," Eleanor said.

"It's eight o'clock."

"Breakfast was served at seven."

"Then you shouldn't have waited."

She frowned.

"Your attitude is becoming exhausting."

"So is pretending this family is normal."

The room became quiet.

Damien lowered his tablet but said nothing.

Eleanor dabbed her lips with a linen napkin before opening her handbag.

"Since you've decided to behave irrationally," she said, "I've decided to behave practically."

She removed a cream-coloured envelope embossed with the Ashford family crest.

She slid it across the polished table toward me.

"Open it."

I didn't move.

"Open it, Vivian."

I lifted the flap.

Inside rested a black platinum card.

No spending limit.

No name.

Just the Ashford crest engraved across the front.

Beneath it lay a handwritten note.

"Withdraw the divorce."

"Leave the country for six months."

"When the gossip dies, Damien will remarry."

"In return, everything you need will be provided."

I read the note twice before folding it neatly.

"You're offering to buy my silence."

"I'm offering you a comfortable future," Eleanor corrected.

"You're no longer young enough to start over without help."

"Then it's fortunate I never intended to ask for yours."

I pushed the envelope back across the table.

"Keep it."

She didn't touch it.

"Think carefully before refusing."

"Women have survived on far less than what I'm placing in front of you."

"I've survived worse than money can fix."

Damien finally spoke.

"Mother."

"Stay out of this," Eleanor replied sharply.

"I'm protecting your reputation."

"By paying my wife to disappear?"

"Your wife already filed for divorce."

"The city will tear this family apart unless we control the story first."

I looked toward Damien.

"She's right about one thing."

"The story is about to change."

His eyes narrowed.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing you're ready to hear."

The butler entered before anyone could speak again.

"Sir," he said carefully.

"There's a gentleman asking to see Mrs. Ashford."

"No visitors," Damien answered immediately.

"He insisted I deliver his name first."

"Who is he?"

"Detective Owen Brooks."

Every sound inside the dining room disappeared.

The detective who investigated Nathaniel's crash.

The man who signed the original accident report.

The same report that never explained why evidence vanished.

Eleanor looked confused.

"Why would a detective come here?"

I already knew.

Someone had reopened old questions.

Or someone wanted to make sure they stayed buried forever.

"Tell him I'm coming," I said.

Damien stepped directly into my path.

"You're not meeting him alone."

"That's not your decision anymore."

"As long as you're still my wife, it is."

"Not for much longer."

I walked around him without waiting for permission.

Behind me, porcelain shattered against the marble floor.

Damien had crushed his coffee cup in his hand.

For the first time since I met him...

He looked less angry than afraid.