Chapter 5 - WENDY VANCE KNEW
Wendy came to see me without permission.
Noah’s licensed security team stopped her in the lobby of my building.
She screamed until I could hear her from the elevator.
I agreed to meet in the conference room downstairs.
Not my apartment.
Julian joined remotely.
Wendy entered carrying a handbag worth more than Marissa, the catering employee, probably earned in four months.
She sat.
“You look fine.”
That was her opening.
I stared.
“What were you expecting?”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
Thirty blows.
Still dramatic.
Then:
“Isaac is falling apart.”
I said nothing.
“He hasn’t slept.”
Nothing.
“Clover left him.”
That surprised me.
Not because I cared.
Because I assumed she would cling to the money.
“She has her own problems.”
The forensic investigation had reached Silver Oak.
Good.
Wendy leaned closer.
“You’ve made your point.”
“No.”
“What more do you want?”
“I want the divorce.”
Her face twisted.
“You cannot end twelve years over one mistake.”
“One?”
She looked away.
I understood.
“You knew.”
“About what?”
“Clover.”
Silence.
My stomach dropped.
“How long?”
“Flora—”
“How long?”
“Months.”
There it was.
“How many?”
“Six.”
The affair had lasted eight.
Wendy had known for most of it.
“What did he tell you?”
“That the marriage was cold.”
“Our marriage.”
“Yes.”
“Not yours.”
“I was his mother.”
Exactly.
She continued:
“He said Clover made him feel appreciated.”
I almost laughed.
“I worked fourteen-hour days during his first expansion year.”
“Loaned the company part of my inheritance.”
“Hosted investors.”
“Moved twice for his projects.”
“Sat beside you through your surgery.”
“Managed Christmas.”
“Birthdays.”
“His father’s gala.”
“And somehow my job was still to make him feel sufficiently appreciated while he slept with another woman?”
Wendy’s face hardened.
“You were always too independent.”
There.
The real offense.
Then she said something worse.
“Clover understood family.”
I stared.
“She understood hierarchy.”
Wendy did not deny it.
She had liked Clover because Clover flattered Isaac.
Flattered Arthur.
Asked Wendy for advice.
Wore dresses Wendy approved.
I did not.
I had spent twelve years being useful without being submissive enough to feel harmless.
Then I asked:
“Did you know about the payments?”
Wendy’s eyes shifted.
Julian’s voice came through the speaker.
“Mrs. Vance, you should remember this meeting is voluntary. You do not have to answer potentially incriminating financial questions.”
She looked at the laptop.
“I haven’t committed a crime.”
“Then you still have the right not to answer.”
He was protecting process even for her.
She hated that.
Finally:
“I knew Clover was receiving consulting fees.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you know her brother supplied Vance?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell Arthur?”
“He already knew.”
There.
Another piece.
Then Wendy stood.
“You think your brothers make you powerful.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“They make me supported.”
She stopped.
“There’s a difference.”
For years, Wendy had treated closeness as control.
Her son called every day.
Therefore love.
He obeyed family decisions.
Therefore loyalty.
My brothers would have burned the city emotionally after seeing my injuries.
But when I asked them not to hurt anyone, they listened.
That was family too.
May you like
Maybe the better kind.
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