Chapter 9 - The Last Secret
Alexander sent everything.
Not selected documents.
Everything.
Emails.
Board minutes.
Text messages.
Financial models.
Emily spent two days reading them.
The truth was less dramatic than the rumor.
And more complicated.
Six months before her wedding, Whitmore Logistics had explored acquiring Carter's cold-chain division.
Alexander approved preliminary analysis.
Then his team discovered irregularities suggesting Carter's value had been artificially depressed.
Alexander halted negotiations.
One email from him read:
Do not approach Carter until we understand why these numbers changed. If someone is engineering distress, I will not profit from it.
Emily read that sentence five times.
Then she found another email.
Dated four months before the wedding.
Alexander had written to his attorney:
Emily Carter is engaged to Mason. That creates a conflict I will not touch.
Her heart stopped.
Four months ago.
He had already been thinking about her.
She closed the laptop.
At 9:00 that evening, Robert entered.
“You love him.”
Emily glared.
“You've become very annoying since retirement.”
“I have hobbies now.”
“Apparently interfering is one.”
Robert sat beside her.
“Your mother would have liked him.”
“She did like him.”
“I meant for you.”
Emily looked down.
“How do I know I'm not just reacting to Mason?”
“You don't.”
“Helpful.”
“You wanted honesty.”
Robert smiled.
“Love isn't a courtroom, Em. You don't wait until every risk is disproven.”
She leaned against him.
“I was so sure about Mason.”
“No. You were committed to Mason. That's different.”
Emily was quiet.
Robert continued.
“You spent four years explaining him to yourself.”
That hurt because it was true.
“With Alexander,” Robert said, “you spend most of your time arguing.”
Emily laughed.
“Also true.”
“You never argued with Mason.”
“He hated it.”
“Exactly.”
Robert kissed her forehead and left.
Emily sat alone.
Then her phone buzzed.
Vanessa.
Turn on Channel 7.
Emily did.
Mason was on television.
Not from jail.
His attorneys had secured his release pending trial.
He stood outside the courthouse.
A reporter asked about Alexander.
Mason smiled.
“My uncle engineered this entire situation because he wanted Carter Manufacturing. Emily will discover that eventually.”
Emily shut off the television.
She was tired of Mason telling the world what her story meant.
So she did something she had refused to do for weeks.
She called a reporter.
The next morning, Emily stood outside Carter Manufacturing.
Dozens of cameras faced her.
She wore no designer dress.
No diamonds.
Just a navy suit and her mother's fountain pen clipped inside the pocket.
“I've spent several weeks watching strangers debate whether I was a victim, a gold digger, a corporate pawn, or a woman rescued by a billionaire.”
She paused.
“I'm none of those things.”
Cameras clicked.
“Carter Manufacturing was targeted. Evidence concerning those events has been provided to investigators, and the courts will determine legal responsibility.”
She would not try Mason in public the way he had tried her.
“As for Alexander Whitmore, his company previously considered a transaction involving Carter. I have reviewed the relevant records.”
Reporters leaned forward.
“He withdrew before making an offer.”
Someone shouted, “Are you dating him?”
Emily smiled.
“That seems slightly outside the scope of corporate restructuring.”
Laughter.
Another reporter called, “Did he really propose at your wedding?”
Emily's smile widened.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
More laughter.
“And what did you say?”
“I slapped him.”
Even the reporters laughed.
Emily looked into the cameras.
“Six weeks ago, I believed the worst thing that could happen to me was losing my wedding.”
Her voice softened.
“I was wrong.”
“The worst thing would have been going through with it.”
Then she stepped away.
Alexander was waiting inside the factory.
Emily stopped when she saw him.
“I watched.”
“Was the proposal comment necessary?”
“Extremely.”
He nodded solemnly.
“Fair.”
She walked closer.
“I read everything.”
“I assumed.”
“You wanted part of Carter.”
“Yes.”
“You stopped when you saw something was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“You also knew I was engaged to Mason.”
“Yes.”
“And that mattered?”
Alexander looked at her.
“More than it should have.”
Emily's heartbeat changed.
“Why?”
He gave her a tired smile.
“You want me to say it?”
“Yes.”
“I had feelings for you before your wedding.”
“How long?”
“Long enough to make family dinners irritating.”
She laughed softly.
“Why didn't you do anything?”
“You loved Mason.”
“I thought I did.”
“I didn't know that.”
Emily stepped closer.
“And now?”
“Now you're vulnerable.”
Her smile vanished.
Alexander continued.
“And I refuse to exploit that.”
She stared at him.
“You are incredibly frustrating.”
“I've been told.”
“I am thirty years old.”
“Yes.”
“I run a manufacturing company.”
“Yes.”
“I survived being publicly abandoned at my wedding.”
“Yes.”
“I threw a whiskey glass at a criminal.”
“That remains one of my favorite memories.”
Emily grabbed his tie.
“So stop deciding when I'm too vulnerable to know what I want.”
Alexander's eyes darkened.
“What do you want?”
She smiled.
“You.”
This time, when they kissed, neither held back.
Then Alexander's phone rang.
He ignored it.
It rang again.
Emily sighed.
“Answer it.”
He did.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Emily watched him.
Alexander slowly lowered the phone.
“Mason's gone.”
Her smile disappeared.
“What do you mean gone?”
“He removed his monitoring device.”
Emily's phone buzzed simultaneously.
One photograph appeared.
Lakecrest Conservatory.
The altar.
Empty now.
May you like
Below it were six words.
LET'S FINISH WHAT WE STARTED.
