Chapter 6 - THE CONTRACT THAT BECAME A WEAPON
Richard Hale had worked for Ethan for eight years.
He attended our wedding.
He congratulated me afterward.
He even sent flowers to Wild June.
Now Ethan suspected he'd betrayed us.
The next morning, Ethan brought in an independent attorney, Naomi Pierce.
Naomi was sharp, direct, and unimpressed by Whitmore money.
She reviewed the trust.
The marriage agreement.
And the documents Margaret had preserved.
“The trust doesn't require a romantic marriage,” she explained.
Ethan nodded.
“I know.”
“But your father may try to argue that you never intended to establish a genuine marital relationship.”
I looked down.
Naomi continued.
“That argument isn't automatically successful. You have a legal marriage. But litigation could delay the transfer of disputed shares.”
Ethan leaned back.
“And the merger?”
“Could move forward if Charles persuades enough directors before the trust issue is resolved.”
I looked at the documents.
Then asked:
“What happens if I leave?”
Naomi studied me.
“Legally, that depends on the circumstances. But leaving would not necessarily make the dispute disappear.”
Ethan turned toward me.
“Claire, don't even consider sacrificing yourself.”
I met his eyes.
“I'm considering every option.”
His expression changed.
That evening, Charles Whitmore invited us to dinner.
Ethan refused.
I accepted.
He stared at me.
“Claire.”
“I want to hear what your father has to say.”
“He'll manipulate you.”
“Then he can try.”
We arrived at the Whitmore estate at seven.
Charles greeted us with a smile that never reached his eyes.
Dinner was served beneath a chandelier the size of a small car.
Halfway through the meal, Charles set down his wineglass.
“Claire, I think it's time we discussed your future.”
I smiled.
“Which part?”
“Your marriage.”
Ethan stiffened.
Charles ignored him.
“You're a sensible young woman. You understand this arrangement was never intended to be permanent.”
I looked at him.
“Do I?”
Charles slid an envelope across the table.
Inside was a proposed settlement.
A substantial sum of money.
In exchange for separating from Ethan and signing a statement supporting Charles's account of our marriage.
I stared at the document.
Then looked up.
“Are you offering to buy me?”
Charles smiled.
“I'm offering you security.”
I placed the envelope back on the table.
“Then you misunderstand me.”
His smile faded.
“My mother taught me that security isn't worth much if you have to sell your integrity to get it.”
Charles went still.
I watched his face.
“You remember June Summers, don't you?”
The room fell silent.
Ethan turned toward his father.
Charles's expression hardened.
“Your mother was a difficult woman.”
I smiled.
“No.”
I stood.
“She was an honest one.”
Charles leaned back.
“You have no idea what you're doing.”
I looked him directly in the eye.
“Maybe not.”
Then I took Ethan's hand.
“But I know what I'm not doing.”
We walked out together.
May you like
And behind us, Charles Whitmore picked up his phone.
By morning, the first article attacking my marriage appeared online.
