Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN FROM HIS PAST
Nobody in the ballroom spoke.
Clara Vale stood beneath the emergency lights as though the darkness had been arranged specifically for her entrance.
Tessa looked at Damon.
His face had changed.
The controlled billionaire who had calmly dismantled Whitney Chase ten minutes earlier was gone.
This Damon looked wounded.
Not frightened.
Wounded.
“Who is she?” Tessa whispered.
Damon didn't answer.
Clara did.
“His wife.”
The room erupted into whispers.
Tessa felt the floor disappear beneath her.
“Your wife?”
Damon finally spoke.
“She died.”
Clara laughed softly.
“No.”
Tessa looked between them.
Clara stepped forward.
“I survived.”
Damon's voice became dangerously low.
“You've been declared dead for six years.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because you paid for the funeral.”
A murmur moved through the crowd.
Tessa couldn't breathe.
She suddenly understood why Damon had looked so shocked.
This wasn't an ex-girlfriend.
This was history.
A marriage.
A death.
A secret.
And somehow Clara had walked into his hotel on the same night someone had planted a message bearing his initials.
Damon moved toward her.
“Security.”
Clara didn't move.
“Go ahead.”
Two guards approached.
Clara lifted her hand.
“Before you remove me, tell them why I disappeared.”
Damon stopped.
Clara looked at the crowd.
“Tell them what happened on the night of the Meridian accident.”
Tessa watched Damon.
He said nothing.
Clara smiled.
“That's what I thought.”
Tessa stepped closer.
“What accident?”
Damon turned.
“Tessa, go upstairs.”
“No.”
His eyes hardened.
“This isn't your problem.”
“You made it my problem when someone left your initials in a locked service corridor.”
Clara's attention shifted to her.
“You really don't know, do you?”
“Know what?”
Clara smiled sadly.
“He hasn't told you.”
Damon stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Clara looked at him.
“Six years, Damon.”
Her voice cracked for the first time.
“Six years and you still protect the lie.”
Damon's jaw tightened.
“I protected you.”
“No.”
She looked at Tessa.
“He protected himself.”
Tessa stared at Damon.
“Is that true?”
He didn't answer immediately.
That hesitation hurt more than the answer would have.
Tessa stepped back.
“I need some air.”
Damon reached for her arm.
She pulled away.
“Don't.”
His hand dropped.
Clara watched them with an unreadable expression.
Then she said quietly, “Now you understand.”
Tessa walked toward the terrace.
Cold Chicago air hit her face.
She gripped the railing.
She had spent years believing wealthy people were complicated.
She had been wrong.
They were simply better at hiding the complications.
The terrace door opened.
Damon stepped outside.
She didn't turn.
“You lied to me.”
“I didn't tell you everything.”
“That's a polished way of saying it.”
“I didn't know Clara was alive.”
“But you knew about the accident.”
“Yes.”
“And the marriage?”
“Yes.”
Tessa finally turned.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you weren't involved.”
“Apparently I am.”
Damon looked at her.
“Someone is trying to make you involved.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Clara?”
“No.”
“You seem very sure.”
“Because Clara wants me destroyed publicly.”
“And the person in the service corridor?”
“That's different.”
“How?”
“Clara doesn't need hidden cameras.”
Tessa stared at him.
“What happened six years ago?”
Damon looked toward the city.
“The Meridian project collapsed.”
“Financially?”
“Structurally.”
Her expression changed.
“How many people?”
“No deaths.”
“Then why was it called an accident?”
“Because it wasn't.”
A cold silence settled between them.
Tessa whispered, “Sabotage.”
“Yes.”
“Clara was there?”
“She was investigating it.”
“And you?”
“I was trying to stop her.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought she was wrong.”
Damon's voice softened.
“She wasn't.”
Tessa waited.
He continued.
“She found evidence that someone inside my company had been selling confidential engineering plans.”
Tessa's eyes narrowed.
“Blueprints?”
“Yes.”
“To competitors?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Damon looked directly at her.
“Someone who wanted buildings to fail.”
Tessa's stomach tightened.
She suddenly remembered something from the renovation.
A missing structural report.
A discrepancy she'd dismissed as a clerical error.
“Damon.”
“What?”
“There was something in the Alder Crown plans.”
His expression changed.
“What?”
“One of the original foundation reports was altered.”
“When?”
“I don't know.”
“Who signed it?”
“I don't remember.”
Damon stepped closer.
“Think.”
She closed her eyes.
A name appeared.
“Marcus Bell.”
Damon went still.
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Marcus died four years ago.”
Tessa opened her eyes.
“No.”
“What?”
“I met him.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
Damon stared at her.
“Where?”
“At a construction review.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
He pulled out his phone.
“Describe him.”
Tessa did.
Damon listened.
Then he showed her a photograph.
Tessa's blood froze.
“That’s him.”
Damon looked at the picture.
“Marcus Bell has been dead for four years.”
“Then who did I meet?”
Neither of them answered.
Behind them, the terrace door opened.
Clara stepped outside.
“Now you understand why I came.”
Damon turned.
Clara looked at Tessa.
“You're standing in the middle of something much bigger than tonight.”
Tessa's voice was barely audible.
“What do you want?”
Clara looked at Damon.
“Justice.”
Then at Tessa.
“And the truth.”
She handed Tessa a small envelope.
“Open it.”
Tessa hesitated.
Damon said, “Don't.”
Clara smiled.
“Of course he'll say that.”
Tessa opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
A construction site.
A young Damon.
Clara.
And a third man.
Tessa stared.
She recognized him.
It was the man who had just run through the service corridor.
She looked at Damon.
“Who is he?”
Damon's face went pale.
“My brother.”
Tessa whispered, “You told me you were an only child.”
Damon closed his eyes.
May you like
Clara said softly,
“Now you know why I came back.”
