Chapter 6 - The Woman Adrian Married
Corinne had not slept in thirty hours.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Junie’s right hand miss the metal lip.
Except it had not missed.
That was the part Corinne could not stop thinking about.
An inch.
Maybe two.
If Junie’s fingers had been shorter, the problem would already be over.
She hated herself for thinking that.
Then hated herself because some part of her still called Junie a problem.
Her attorney, Vanessa Shaw, sat across from the kitchen island.
“Do not contact Adrian.”
“He’s my husband.”
“He is also potentially a witness.”
“Against me.”
“Yes.”
Corinne laughed without humor.
“Thank you for the romance.”
Vanessa closed her notebook.
“Did you push Junie?”
Corinne stared at her.
“Isn’t that the kind of question lawyers don’t ask?”
“No. Television made that up.”
Corinne looked toward the windows.
The house overlooked Biscayne Bay.
Everything in it was Adrian.
His taste.
His money.
His life.
She had walked into it and convinced herself she deserved part of it.
“I lost my temper.”
Vanessa went still.
“That wasn’t my question.”
“She was standing too close.”
“Corinne.”
“I touched her.”
“With both hands?”
Silence.
Vanessa exhaled.
“Jesus Christ.”
“I didn’t mean for her to go over.”
“Then where did you mean for a four-year-old to go when you shoved her beside an open edge?”
Corinne snapped, “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a monster.”
“I’m your attorney. I’m trying to understand your exposure.”
“My exposure.”
“Yes.”
“Funny word.”
Vanessa waited.
Corinne stood.
“I didn’t wake up planning to kill a child.”
“Did anyone suggest that you should?”
Corinne’s face changed.
Vanessa noticed.
“Who?”
“No one.”
“That was a terrible lie.”
Corinne walked to the window.
Her phone sat facedown on the counter.
Marcus had texted six times.
Delete our messages.
Use Signal only.
Do not discuss the trust.
Tell Vanessa nothing about me.
That final message had frightened her.
Marcus had promised protection.
Protection did not usually begin with tell your lawyer nothing.
Corinne remembered their first real conversation two years earlier.
A museum fundraiser.
Marcus had approached her beside a sculpture nobody understood.
“You’re Raymond Vale’s daughter.”
She had stiffened.
People usually recognized her father’s name only if they knew about the bankruptcy.
“Yes.”
Marcus smiled.
“Then we have something in common.”
“What?”
“We both know what Adrian Brooks can do to people when money is involved.”
That sentence had changed her life.
Corinne’s father had lost his shipping business when she was nineteen.
Raymond blamed Adrian’s company.
A contract collapsed.
Creditors descended.
Her parents divorced.
Her mother moved to Arizona.
Her father never recovered.
Corinne had spent years hating a man she had never met.
Then Marcus showed her documents.
Emails.
Numbers.
Adrian’s name.
When Adrian appeared at another fundraiser months later, Marcus called it opportunity.
Corinne called it fate.
Until Marcus corrected her.
“No,” he had said. “Fate is for people who don’t understand leverage.”
She had dated Adrian.
Then loved parts of him despite herself.
That had been the most inconvenient part.
Adrian was not arrogant.
Not cruel.
Not greedy.
He tipped parking attendants too much because his mother had once worked nights cleaning offices.
He cried at commercials involving old dogs.
He could make Junie laugh by pretending blueberries were tiny planets.
Corinne kept waiting for the monster Marcus had described.
It never arrived.
So she began inventing reasons to hate Adrian instead.
He worked too much.
He talked about Naomi too gently.
He looked at Junie with a love Corinne knew she would never receive.
And Marcus kept reminding her why she was there.
Six months ago, he showed her a trust summary.
“If something happens to Junie before eighteen, Adrian controls Naomi’s shares.”
“And?”
“And as Adrian’s spouse, you become the only remaining immediate family beneficiary.”
Corinne had stared at him.
“You’re talking about a child.”
“I’m talking about documents.”
She had walked away.
But she did not stop listening.
Then came the yacht.
Marcus told her the bow camera would be down for a software update.
He told her he needed Adrian shaken.
Distracted.
Vulnerable.
Nothing specific.
Nothing explicit.
At least that was what Corinne told herself now.
Junie had approached smiling.
Adrian’s kiss was still warm on Corinne’s cheek.
She saw Junie and thought about Naomi.
About the trust.
About Marcus.
About her father.
About eighteen months of pretending.
Then Junie said, “You look pretty today.”
The kindness made Corinne furious.
So she had hurt her.
Not because Junie deserved it.
Because Corinne needed someone smaller than herself to carry the weight of everything she hated.
Vanessa’s voice pulled her back.
“Who is Marcus?”
Corinne turned sharply.
Vanessa pointed at the phone.
“You keep looking at it every time I ask who told you about the trust.”
Corinne said nothing.
Vanessa stood.
“If you are protecting another person, I need to know.”
“You work for me.”
“Yes.”
“So work.”
“I am.”
Vanessa put her notebook into her bag.
“And right now my professional advice is very simple.”
“What?”
“Decide whether you want a lawyer or an accomplice.”
She headed for the door.
Corinne’s phone buzzed.
Marcus again.
This message was different.
Adrian met with Elise Rowan today.
Corinne stared at it.
How did Marcus know?
A second message appeared.
We need to fix this before he learns what Naomi found.
Corinne read it twice.
Then a third time.
Naomi.
Not the trust.
What Naomi found.
For the first time, Corinne wondered whether Junie had ever truly been the target of Marcus’s plan.
May you like
Or whether all of them—including Corinne—had been standing on the edge of something much larger.
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