Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN I THOUGHT I HATEDI met Sophia Reed two days later.
Not because Alexander asked.
He had no idea.
We chose a small café in Brooklyn where nobody from Grant society was likely to appear.
I arrived early.
Sophia walked in eight minutes later.
She wasn't what I expected.
Maybe nobody is.
For two years, I had imagined her as polished, calculating, perhaps cruel.
Instead she looked exhausted.
Dark hair pulled back.
No visible makeup.
Simple wool coat.
She spotted me immediately.
“Erin?”
I nodded.
She sat across from me.
“This is strange.”
“That is one word.”
“I owe you an apology.”
“For eating dinner with my husband on our anniversary?”
She winced.
“Yes.”
“Good place to start.”
Sophia nodded.
“I didn't know it was your anniversary until Alexander mentioned it after arriving.”
I stared.
“He mentioned it?”
“Yes.”
“And stayed?”
Another wince.
“Yes.”
At least she didn't defend him.
“Why contact me?”
“Because Eleanor Grant is trying to do to you what she did to me.”
I leaned back.
“Explain.”
Sophia had dated Alexander for nearly four years.
They met in graduate school.
They became engaged privately.
Eleanor hated her.
Sophia came from money, but not Grant money.
More importantly, she had no interest in becoming a decorative wife.
She worked in investigative journalism.
She challenged Alexander.
She challenged Eleanor more.
“Six weeks before Alexander planned to publicly announce our engagement, Eleanor came to see me.”
“What did she say?”
“That I would ruin him.”
I almost laughed.
“She has said similar things about my design work.”
Sophia nodded.
“She offered me five million dollars to leave.”
“Did you take it?”
“No.”
“Then why leave?”
Her face changed.
“She showed me documents.”
“What documents?”
“Financial records suggesting my younger brother had stolen from a Grant Foundation account.”
I went still.
“Had he?”
“No.”
Sophia later discovered the records were manipulated.
At the time, Eleanor threatened prosecution.
Sophia's brother had just gotten sober after years of addiction.
A felony case would destroy him.
“So you disappeared.”
“I told Alexander I didn't love him anymore.”
“Why not tell him?”
“I was twenty-seven and terrified.”
“Did Eleanor pay you?”
“No.”
“Alexander thinks you chose Paris over him.”
“Yes.”
“Why come back now?”
“My father has late-stage pancreatic cancer.”
She looked toward the window.
“He asked me to stop carrying secrets for people who never deserved my loyalty.”
I understood that feeling painfully well.
“So you told Alexander?”
“Last night.”
My heartbeat changed.
“At dinner?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Sophia hesitated.
“Mostly nothing.”
Of course.
“When I told him Eleanor fabricated evidence, he didn't believe me at first.”
“Then?”
“I showed him copies.”
“And he stayed with you until midnight?”
Sophia looked uncomfortable.
“We weren't together until midnight.”
“What?”
“He left around ten.”
I frowned.
“He got home after midnight.”
Sophia shook her head.
“I don't know where he went.”
That bothered me more than expected.
“What else did you discuss?”
“You.”
I stared.
Sophia smiled faintly.
“He kept checking the charges.”
“I noticed.”
“After your luggage purchase, he stopped listening to me entirely.”
That was almost funny.
“Why did you text me?”
“Because he was spiraling.”
“You told me I was distracting him.”
“I know how awful that sounded afterward.”
“It sounded pretty awful during.”
“I deserved that.”
I studied her.
“Do you still love Alexander?”
She didn't answer immediately.
“No.”
I believed her.
“Does he love you?”
“I think he loves an idea of who we were.”
That sounded familiar.
“What about me?”
Sophia looked at me with uncomfortable honesty.
“I think Alexander loves you.”
I laughed.
“He has an interesting way of showing it.”
“I didn't say he knows how.”
That silenced me.
Sophia pulled an envelope from her bag.
“There's another reason I contacted you.”
Inside were copies of financial documents.
Eleanor's name appeared across several.
“What am I looking at?”
“The Grant Foundation.”
Sophia pointed.
“Eleanor didn't only frame my brother. She has been using foundation money for private political donations and undisclosed settlements for years.”
“Why give this to me?”
“Because some payments happened after you married Alexander.”
I scanned the pages.
One company stood out.
VALE DESIGN CONSULTING.
My maiden name.
I stared.
“What is that?”
“I hoped you knew.”
“I don't.”
The entity had received $1.7 million over eighteen months.
Under my name.
My tax identification information.
My old business registration number.
Cold moved through me.
“I never received this money.”
Sophia nodded.
“Then someone is using your identity.”
Only a handful of people had access to my old company records.
Alexander.
Our attorneys.
And Eleanor Grant.
I photographed everything.
Then called Caroline.
Within three hours, we confirmed a company had indeed been reopened under my identity.
Its registered mailing address led to a Grant-controlled office.
“This is serious,” Caroline said.
“Tax fraud?”
“Potentially. Money laundering. Identity fraud. Depends what the entity did.”
“Would Alexander know?”
“I don't know.”
That became the worst part.
I didn't know.
My husband managed one of the largest private investment companies in the country.
Could millions move through something carrying my name without his knowledge?
That evening, Alexander appeared outside my temporary apartment.
I let him in because I needed an answer.
“Did you know your mother reopened my design company?”
He stopped.
“What?”
I placed the documents down.
His face changed as he read.
“What the hell is this?”
“I'm asking you.”
“I've never seen these.”
“Convenient.”
He looked up sharply.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Treat me like I'm capable of stealing your identity.”
“I didn't think you were capable of leaving me on our anniversary until last week.”
That landed.
He sat.
I watched him read.
Then his expression became terrifyingly calm.
I had seen Alexander angry.
This was different.
“Where did you get these?”
“Sophia.”
His eyes lifted.
“You met Sophia?”
“Yes.”
“Without telling me?”
I laughed.
“You're going to complain?”
He closed his mouth.
Wise decision.
“She told me about your mother.”
Alexander looked away.
“So it's true?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“How do you feel?”
His jaw tightened.
“I wasted years hating Sophia for something she didn't do.”
Something in me hurt.
Not jealousy exactly.
Maybe exhaustion.
Alexander saw it.
“That isn't what I meant.”
“I know.”
He placed the documents down.
“My mother and I had an argument after dinner with Sophia.”
“So that's where you were?”
“At her house.”
“Until midnight?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I confronted her.”
“What did she say?”
“That Sophia was never appropriate for me.”
I laughed.
“She really loves that word.”
“Then I asked about you.”
My smile disappeared.
“What about me?”
Alexander looked directly at me.
“She said you were easier.”
The room became silent.
“Easier?”
“She said after Sophia, she chose someone who wouldn't challenge the family.”
I felt physically ill.
“Chose?”
“I didn't know.”
“Alexander.”
“I didn't know.”
“What does chosen mean?”
He rubbed his face.
“My mother introduced us.”
“Yes.”
“She pushed me to take you out.”
I remembered.
Charity dinner.
Eleanor placing me beside Alexander.
Her smiling when he asked for my number.
Suddenly every memory looked contaminated.
“Was our marriage arranged?”
“No.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I chose you.”
“After she put me in front of you.”
“Yes.”
“Because I was easier.”
“No.”
His voice sharpened.
“You were kind.”
I stared.
“You were warm. You didn't treat every conversation like competition. You made rooms feel quieter.”
He stopped.
Then added:
“And I took advantage of that.”
At least he knew.
My phone rang.
Caroline.
I answered.
“Erin, we found where the $1.7 million went.”
“Where?”
“Mostly political consulting and settlements.”
“What settlements?”
“One in particular.”
She hesitated.
“Caroline.”
“A woman received $600,000 nine months ago.”
“Who?”
“Her name is Natalie Pierce.”
I had never heard it.
“Why does she matter?”
Caroline inhaled.
“Because according to the settlement agreement, Natalie Pierce claims Alexander Grant is the father of her seven-year-old son.”
I looked at my husband.
He heard every word.
May you like
His face went completely white.
And just like that, Sophia Reed stopped being the biggest ghost in our marriage.
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