Chapter 8: The Truth My Mother Buried
Eleanor’s house smelled exactly like my childhood.
Old books.
Tea.
Lavender.
For a moment, I forgot why I was there.
Then I saw the photograph on her fireplace.
My mother.
Eleanor.
And Victoria Hale.
Standing together.
Friends.
Before everything fell apart.
“You knew her,” I said.
Eleanor looked at the photo.
“She was my closest friend.””
“Then why didn’t you tell me anything?””
Her eyes filled with guilt.
“Because your mother made me promise.””
I stepped closer.
“Promise what?””
“That I wouldn’t say anything unless you found the truth yourself.””
I laughed once.
A painful sound.
“She knew this would happen?””
Eleanor shook her head.
“She hoped it wouldn’t.””
She motioned toward the couch.
“Sit down.””
I sat.
But I didn’t relax.
Not anymore.
Not with secrets.
Not with people who claimed silence was protection.
“Tell me everything.””
Eleanor took a deep breath.
“Your mother and Victoria were friends for years.””
“I know.””
“No, Emily. You don’t.””
She looked at me.
“They weren’t just friends. They built businesses together.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“Before Victoria became wealthy, your mother helped her create her first company.””
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What does that have to do with Damon?””
“Everything.””
Eleanor walked to a cabinet and removed an old folder.
Inside were documents.
“Victoria changed after she became successful. She started believing people were resources.””
“Resources?””
“People she could use.””
I thought about the forged signature.
The trust.
The plan.
Eleanor continued.
“She wanted influence. Power. Control. And when your mother discovered Victoria was using illegal methods to gain ownership of other people’s assets, she tried to expose her.””
My heart pounded.
“My mother knew?””
“Yes.””
“Why didn’t she tell anyone?””
“Because Victoria threatened her.””
The room went silent.
“What did she threaten?””
Eleanor looked away.
“Your mother’s life.””
I stopped breathing.
She continued.
“Victoria told her she could destroy everything. Her reputation. Her finances. Her family.””
I looked down.
“My mother died six years ago.””
Eleanor’s expression changed.
“I know.””
The silence that followed felt heavy.
“You think Victoria had something to do with it?””
Eleanor didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
That was the answer.
I stood.
“No.””
The word came out stronger than I expected.
“No, I need proof.””
Eleanor nodded.
“That’s why your mother collected everything.””
She handed me the folder.
Inside were copies of emails.
Financial records.
Photos.
Then I saw something that made my heart stop.
A picture of Damon.
Younger.
Standing beside Victoria.
And beside him was Claire.
They weren’t children.
They were adults.
The photo was dated two years before my wedding.
“They knew each other before me.””
Eleanor nodded.
“Yes.””
I stared at the picture.
All this time, I thought Damon and Claire’s betrayal began after marriage.
It didn’t.
They had a history.
A plan.
Maybe even an agreement.
“Why marry me?”” I whispered.
Eleanor looked at me sadly.
“Because your mother left you something.””
I looked up.
“What?””
“A trust.””
I froze.
“What trust?””
“Your father’s inheritance.””
I shook my head.
“My father didn’t leave much.””
“That’s what Damon wanted you to believe.””
The room spun.
My parents had died believing they were protecting me.
Damon had married me knowing there was something he wanted.
I looked at Eleanor.
“How much?””
She hesitated.
“Enough that Victoria would spend years trying to get access.””
I felt sick.
The baby.
The marriage.
The forged documents.
It was all connected.
That night, I returned home with the folder hidden in my bag.
Damon was sitting in the living room.
Waiting.
“You were gone a long time.””
I smiled.
“I visited someone.””
“Who?””
I looked at him.
For one second, I wanted to say everything.
I wanted to watch his face collapse.
But I didn’t.
“An old family friend.””
His expression tightened.
“Who?””
I walked past him.
“Goodnight, Damon.””
He watched me carefully.
And for the first time since this nightmare began…
He looked afraid.
Later that night, I opened the folder again.
At the bottom was one final document.
A letter from my mother.
Not hidden.
Not unfinished.
A letter she had written directly to me.
May you like
The first line made my blood freeze.
*Emily, if you married Damon Reed, then I was too late.*
