Chapter 4 - The Woman Behind the Prime MinisterMargaret Voss had served the Calloway family for nearly twenty years.
She had managed diplomatic crises, international trade negotiations, and the kind of political scandals that could end careers.
Adrien had known her since he was fifteen.
He trusted her judgment.
He did not trust what he had just seen.
The following morning, he called her directly.
“Margaret.”
“Adrien. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Why were you meeting Julian Hayes?”
The silence lasted two seconds too long.
“Who told you that?”
“Does it matter?”
“I meet with dozens of business leaders.”
“Julian isn't just a business leader.”
“I understand he was previously married to Miranda.”
Adrien's jaw tightened.
“Previously?”
“Yes.”
“Margaret, you've known about my marriage for three days.”
“Of course.”
“Then why are you meeting the man who spent yesterday trying to discredit my wife?”
Margaret sighed.
“Adrien, your father's office has received serious concerns about the Harbor Light Foundation.”
“Anonymous allegations.”
“Supported by documents.”
“Documents that may be forged.”
“That remains to be established.”
Adrien stood beside the kitchen window.
“Did you give Julian information about Miranda?”
“I provided no confidential information.”
“Then what was in the envelope?”
Another pause.
“An invitation to submit his company's trade proposal through the proper channels.”
Adrien didn't believe her.
“I'm asking you one final time. Did you discuss my marriage?”
“No.”
“Then you won't object to an internal review.”
Margaret's voice sharpened.
“Be careful, Adrien. Your father has a great deal at stake during this visit.”
“So does my wife.”
He ended the call.
Miranda stood near the kitchen island, watching him.
“That sounded unpleasant.”
“It was.”
“Did she tell you anything useful?”
“She denied everything.”
Miranda considered that.
“Maybe she's telling the truth.”
“Maybe.”
“But you don't think so.”
Adrien looked at her.
“I think someone is trying to use your past to influence my father's government.”
Miranda shook her head.
“I don't understand. Julian doesn't know who I married.”
“Someone may have told him enough to make him suspicious.”
“Why?”
“Because if Julian believes he can use you to reach my father, he will.”
Miranda thought about the years she had spent beside Julian at business dinners.
He had never been interested in people unless they could offer him something.
Connections.
Money.
Influence.
Access.
Now he was pursuing a government contract worth billions.
And she was standing between him and the family he wanted to impress.
“Adrien,” she said quietly, “I don't want to become a political problem for your father.”
He turned toward her.
“You're not a problem.”
“That's not how your advisers see it.”
“I didn't marry my advisers.”
She smiled faintly.
“Your father might disagree.”
“He often does.”
Adrien approached her.
“Miranda, listen. My family is used to public scrutiny. You aren't. That means we need to be careful, but it doesn't mean you have to disappear.”
She looked down.
“Julian spent eight years making me feel like I should apologize for taking up space.”
Adrien gently lifted her chin.
“Then it's time you stopped apologizing.”
At Hayes Meridian headquarters, Julian was receiving very different advice.
Martin Keene sat across from him with a thick financial report.
“We need to discuss the transfer.”
Julian closed his office door.
“Not now.”
“Now.”
Martin rarely challenged him.
That alone made Julian uneasy.
“The reporter has a document we thought was inaccessible,” Martin said. “If she keeps investigating, she'll find the associated accounts.”
“Then shut it down.”
“We can't.”
Julian stared.
“What do you mean, we can't?”
“The accounts were closed, but the transaction records still exist. We can't make them disappear.”
Julian leaned forward.
“You assured me the money was protected.”
“It is. But the authorization trail is vulnerable.”
“Miranda signed it.”
Martin's expression remained flat.
“Did she?”
Julian said nothing.
Martin lowered his voice.
“Julian, I was there when you told the legal department to use her signature from the estate-planning documents.”
Julian's face hardened.
“Be careful.”
“I'm trying to be.”
“Miranda didn't understand the transaction.”
“She didn't know about it at all.”
Julian stood.
“Enough.”
Martin closed the folder.
“You asked me to protect the company. I'm telling you that the safest course is to disclose the transaction before someone else does.”
Julian laughed bitterly.
“Disclose twelve million dollars moved through an unauthorized account?”
“Correct the record. Cooperate with investigators. Let the attorneys determine our exposure.”
“And destroy the Bellmont deal?”
Martin looked at him.
“That deal won't survive a fraud investigation anyway.”
Julian turned toward the window.
Below, Boston moved beneath a cold afternoon sky.
He had built Hayes Meridian from a small construction firm into a multinational corporation.
He had survived lawsuits.
Market crashes.
Hostile acquisitions.
He was not going to lose everything because Miranda suddenly had a lawyer willing to ask questions.
“Find out who sent the documents,” he ordered.
Martin stood.
“And if I refuse?”
Julian turned.
“Then you can clear out your office.”
Martin studied him for a long moment.
“Maybe I should.”
He walked out.
Julian watched the door close.
Then called Candace.
“Come upstairs.”
She arrived ten minutes later.
He handed her a photograph of Adrien Calloway.
“Find out everything you can about this man.”
Candace frowned.
“Why?”
“Because he has something to do with Miranda.”
She looked at the photograph.
“Adrien Calloway?”
“You know him?”
“Of course. He's the prime minister's son.”
Julian froze.
“What?”
Candace laughed.
“Julian, everyone knows who he is.”
Julian snatched the photograph back.
He studied the face.
Dark hair.
Sharp jaw.
Expensive but understated suit.
A man who looked vaguely familiar.
Then he remembered.
Six months earlier, at a Boston hospital fundraiser, Miranda had been speaking with a man near the children's ward.
Julian had seen them from across the room.
He had assumed the man was a volunteer.
Later, he had accused Miranda of flirting.
She had denied it.
Julian had laughed in her face.
Now he looked at the photograph again.
“Where did you get this?”
Candace shrugged.
“From the gala planning committee's background materials. He's expected to attend.”
Julian's heartbeat accelerated.
“Does he know Miranda?”
Candace hesitated.
“I heard they worked together on some hospital projects.”
Julian looked toward the window.
A strange possibility formed in his mind.
Impossible.
Absurd.
And yet—
He opened his laptop.
Searched Adrien Calloway's name.
Scrolled through photographs.
Found one taken outside a Boston bookstore.
Adrien stood beside a woman whose face was partially obscured by an umbrella.
A cream wool coat.
Long brown hair.
Miranda.
Julian stared.
“When was this taken?”
Candace leaned closer.
“Last month.”
Julian's jaw tightened.
“She's seeing him.”
Candace blinked.
“Miranda?”
“Yes.”
Candace laughed.
“Please. A prime minister's son wouldn't marry a woman who rides the bus.”
Julian said nothing.
He enlarged the photograph.
Adrien's hand rested gently against Miranda's back.
Not the casual gesture of a stranger.
Something intimate.
Protective.
Julian felt a sharp, unfamiliar jealousy.
“Find out how serious they are.”
Candace frowned.
“Why do you care?”
“I don't.”
“Then why—”
“Just do it.”
Candace left.
Julian remained at his desk.
He had spent seven months imagining Miranda alone in a small apartment, regretting their divorce.
Now he was beginning to suspect she had moved on.
Not with another businessman.
Not with some ordinary man he could intimidate.
With someone whose family possessed influence Julian couldn't buy.
His phone rang.
An unknown number.
He answered impatiently.
“Hayes.”
A woman's voice spoke.
“Mr. Hayes, I understand you're interested in Miranda.”
Julian sat upright.
“Who is this?”
“Someone who can help you.”
“With what?”
“Finding out what your ex-wife has been hiding.”
Julian looked toward the door.
“I'm listening.”
The woman lowered her voice.
“Tomorrow evening, a private reception will be held at the Bellmont consulate. Adrien Calloway will attend.”
“So?”
“So will his new wife.”
Julian stopped breathing.
“His what?”
“His wife, Mr. Hayes.”
A pause.
Then the woman continued.
“And if you want to know her name, you should attend the Harbor Light gala.”
The line went dead.
Julian stared at his phone.
His mind raced.
A private marriage.
A mysterious foundation founder.
A woman in a cream coat.
Miranda.
He stood so abruptly that his chair struck the wall.
“No,” he whispered.
Then he reached for his phone and called Candace.
“Get me the gala guest list.”
“Julian—”
“Now.”
May you like
He hung up.
And for the first time since the divorce, Julian Hayes began to wonder whether the woman he had humiliated at a bus stop was about to humiliate him in front of the entire world.
Related Stories
