Vanessa Was Not My Rival, but She Had Lied to Me Too
Chapter 04 - Vanessa Was Not My Rival, but She Had Lied to Me Too
Elena met Vanessa three days later.
Not alone.
Rachel present.
Federal investigator present.
No Adrien.
Vanessa arrived wearing navy pants and a gray coat.
No hotel glamour.
No perfume Elena could smell from across a ballroom.
She looked tired.
Human.
That was inconvenient.
“I’m sorry,” Vanessa said.
Elena sat back.
“For which part?”
Vanessa almost smiled.
“Fair.”
She started with the photographs.
Someone had been following Vanessa for weeks.
At the Harrington, she recognized a man connected to Victor Costa’s former logistics manager.
She panicked.
Adrien moved her through the lobby.
The hand against her back was exactly what it looked like.
Physical closeness.
Not romance.
The hand on his face came because Vanessa whispered:
“They found me.”
The photographer captured the second before Adrien called security.
“Did you know someone took the photo?”
“No.”
“Did Adrien?”
“No.”
“Did you ever sleep with him?”
“No.”
“Want to?”
Vanessa blinked.
Rachel looked at Elena.
Elena did not care.
“Answer.”
Vanessa took a breath.
“No.”
Then, honestly:
“Once, years ago, I thought he was attractive.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
Vanessa continued before Elena could weaponize it.
“So did half Manhattan.”
That was probably true.
“Did anything happen?”
“No.”
“Did he ever encourage it?”
“No.”
The answer came cleanly.
Good.
Then Elena asked:
“Why did you call me?”
Vanessa’s face changed.
“Because I told him months ago he needed to tell you.”
“About what?”
“The shell company in your name.”
“Why didn’t you tell me yourself?”
“Because he was my client.”
There.
Professional loyalty.
Useful shield.
Vanessa looked down.
“And because I was afraid.”
Everyone.
Always fear.
“Of Adrien?”
“No.”
“Of Costa?”
“Yes.”
Vanessa had been tracing the network for seven months.
Three witnesses disappeared from public view.
Not murdered.
One entered federal protection.
One fled to Europe.
One simply stopped cooperating after a threat to his daughter.
Vanessa believed Elena knowing too early could cause her to change routine and alert whoever was watching.
“That was not your decision.”
“I know.”
“Did you know he was tracking me?”
“Yes.”
Elena’s jaw tightened.
“Did you object?”
Vanessa hesitated.
There.
“Not at first.”
“Why?”
“Because from a security perspective, it made sense.”
“And from a marriage perspective?”
Vanessa looked at her.
“I told him it was indefensible.”
“When?”
“After I met you.”
Elena frowned.
“We never met.”
“Yes, we did.”
A memory.
A charity dinner eight months earlier.
Vanessa had introduced herself near the coat check.
Elena barely remembered.
Vanessa remembered Elena asking whether she worked with Adrien.
Vanessa said:
“Occasionally.”
Then Elena joked:
“I’m glad someone knows what he does after midnight.”
Vanessa had laughed.
Later she told Adrien:
Your wife knows you’re hiding something.
Tell her.
He did not.
“Why keep helping him?”
“Because the investigation mattered.”
“And me?”
Vanessa’s face tightened.
“I told myself protecting you mattered too.”
Elena stared.
“Do you understand how insulting that sounds?”
“Yes.”
Better.
Then Vanessa opened her file.
Marshall Heritage Consulting.
Created four years earlier.
Long before Vanessa entered.
Initial organizer:
MARTIN DANE.
Elena knew the name.
Adrien did too.
Martin Dane had been Peter Marshall’s best friend.
And Elena’s godfather.
He attended her graduation.
Sent birthday cards.
Stopped calling two years after Peter died.
Elena had assumed life drifted.
Martin had been living in Connecticut.
Retired insurance broker.
No criminal record.
According to federal records, he died nine months earlier.
Elena stared.
“Then who is using the company?”
Vanessa turned a page.
Martin created it.
But six months before his death, ownership transferred to a trust.
Trustee:
CATHERINE MARSHALL.
Elena’s mother.
The room went quiet.
“My mother?”
Vanessa nodded.
Elena laughed once.
“No.”
Her mother, Catherine, taught music at a public middle school in Westchester.
She hated finance.
Still mailed paper checks.
Could barely reset an email password without calling Elena.
“This is fake.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“Signature appears genuine.”
Elena’s stomach tightened.
Then Vanessa showed the trust agreement.
Catherine received no beneficial interest.
She held title temporarily.
For Elena.
On Elena’s thirty-third birthday.
Next month.
The emergency amendment placing Marshall Heritage directly into Elena’s name had been filed early.
Someone wanted the transfer complete now.
“Why would my mother do this?”
Vanessa did not answer.
The federal investigator did.
“Because Martin Dane may not have created the company to frame you.”
Elena stared.
“What?”
New evidence suggested Marshall Heritage began as a recovery vehicle.
Martin had spent years trying to reclaim assets stolen from Peter Marshall during the original Moretti-Costa scheme.
Eleven million dollars had flowed through it.
But not all criminal money.
Some appeared to be recovered property.
Book collections.
Insurance settlements.
Offshore proceeds tied to Peter’s original evidence.
“What are you saying?”
Vanessa looked at Elena.
“Your father may have left more behind than Adrien ever knew.”
Then Elena’s phone rang.
Her mother.
Catherine.
Elena answered.
“Mom.”
Silence.
Then:
“Elena, where are you?”
“Safe.”
“Are you with Adrien?”
“No.”
Catherine exhaled.
“Good.”
Elena’s skin went cold.
“Why good?”
A long pause.
Then Catherine said:
“Because I need to tell you something before he finds out.”
Elena looked at Vanessa.
The federal investigator.
Rachel.
“What?”
Catherine’s voice shook.
“Your father didn’t become an informant because of Antonio Moretti.”
Elena stopped breathing.
“He became an informant because of Adrien.”
Adrien had been twenty-seven then.
Already inside the family business.
May you like
Already making decisions.
And apparently Peter Marshall had been watching him too.
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