Chapter 5 - THE PRICE OF MY HEARTBREAK
Brooke Halley walked into Julian Cross's office on Thursday carrying a manila envelope and wearing the same pale blue cardigan she'd worn to my bridal shower.
I hated that I recognized it.
I hated even more that part of me remembered buying it for her birthday.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
Her blond hair was tied back.
Her eyes were swollen.
One hand rested protectively over her stomach.
For a moment, I saw the young woman I'd hired nineteen months earlier.
Then I remembered her holding my wedding veil.
And I felt nothing but exhaustion.
Julian had insisted that the meeting take place with attorneys present.
Brooke had retained a lawyer named Rebecca Sloan.
My own attorney, Helen Park, sat beside me.
Nobody was there to forgive anyone.
We were there because Brooke claimed she had evidence.
She placed the envelope on the table.
“I brought copies.”
Julian opened it.
Inside were bank statements, screenshots, and a consulting agreement.
Evan's signature appeared on the final page.
I recognized it immediately.
Four years of birthday cards and grocery lists had made that signature familiar.
“What is this?” I asked.
Brooke swallowed.
“An agreement between Evan's company and Eastbridge Advisory.”
Julian read the first page.
His expression tightened.
The contract described a strategic market intelligence engagement.
The language was deliberately vague.
But the compensation schedule was not.
A seventy-five-thousand-dollar retainer.
An additional two-hundred-thousand-dollar payment contingent upon a qualifying acquisition transaction.
And a final clause granting a performance bonus if Whitmore House entered an exclusive sale process before September 30.
I stared at the document.
“He was going to get paid if I sold my company?”
Brooke nodded.
“To Bellamy's investors.”
I looked at Julian.
“Is this enforceable?”
“That's not the immediate question.”
“What is?”
“Whether Evan provided confidential information or participated in manipulating your company's financial position.”
I turned back to Brooke.
“Did you know?”
She began crying.
I didn't move.
“Brooke.”
“I knew he was consulting for them.”
“Did you know he was giving them my files?”
She looked down.
My stomach sank.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
The word was barely audible.
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The betrayal beneath the betrayal.
She hadn't merely slept with my fiancé.
She had helped him compromise the company I'd built.
“Why?”
Her lips trembled.
“He told me you were going to sell Whitmore House and take the money.”
“That was a lie.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew my plans. You scheduled every investor meeting.”
“He said the meetings were secret negotiations.”
I stared at her.
“You could have asked me.”
She looked away.
That was the moment I stopped accepting her confusion as an explanation.
“You didn't ask because you didn't want to know.”
She started crying harder.
“I loved him.”
I felt something sharp move through my chest.
“Congratulations.”
“Claire, please.”
“No. You don't get to use love as an excuse for stealing confidential information.”
Her attorney leaned forward.
“My client is cooperating voluntarily.”
Helen answered calmly.
“And we appreciate that cooperation. But it doesn't erase potential liability.”
Brooke wiped her face.
“I didn't know about the forged documents.”
Julian looked up.
“Which documents?”
“The ones saying Claire stole designs from Bellamy.”
The room went quiet.
Brooke reached into her bag.
She removed a small black flash drive.
“I found this in Evan's apartment.”
I stared at it.
“Why were you searching his apartment?”
She swallowed.
“Because he told me we were moving in together after the wedding was canceled.”
My chest tightened.
“He told you that?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“When I asked him to make room for my things, he said I needed to wait.”
She looked at me.
“He wouldn't even let me leave a toothbrush.”
I almost laughed.
It was so painfully ordinary.
A man who had destroyed two women's lives still wanted to control the bathroom counter.
Brooke continued.
“I started wondering what else he was lying about.”
She had found the flash drive inside a locked desk drawer.
According to her, Evan had left the key in a jacket pocket.
She copied several files before returning the drive.
Julian did not touch it immediately.
He asked Helen whether they should arrange forensic preservation.
They agreed.
Then Brooke said something unexpected.
“I don't think Evan intended to marry me.”
I looked at her.
“He told you he would?”
She nodded.
“He said once the baby came, we'd be a family.”
“And you believed him.”
“Yes.”
I looked at the ultrasound photograph she'd brought with her.
It was tucked inside her notebook.
For the first time, I noticed that she kept looking at it as though it might explain everything.
“Is the pregnancy real?” I asked.
Her face changed.
“Yes.”
“I'm not accusing you. I'm asking because Evan told me he'd needed proof.”
Brooke nodded.
“It's real.”
She hesitated.
Then added, “But I don't know whether he's the father.”
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“What?”
She began crying again.
“There was someone else.”
I felt the world shift.
Rebecca touched her client's arm.
“Brooke, you don't have to discuss private medical matters here.”
“I know.”
Brooke looked directly at me.
“I told Evan I wasn't sure.”
I leaned back.
“And he told me the baby was his.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Julian looked at the contract.
Then at me.
The same thought had occurred to both of us.
Evan had canceled our wedding over a pregnancy whose paternity he hadn't established.
Not because he had to.
Because he wanted to.
Or because someone else wanted him to.
I looked at Brooke.
“Who was the other man?”
She hesitated.
“His name is Ryan.”
“Ryan who?”
“Ryan Bellamy.”
I stared.
Bellamy.
As in Bellamy Atelier.
As in the company accusing me of stealing designs.
As in the business whose investors had offered Evan a fortune if he helped force Whitmore House into a sale.
Julian slowly put down his pen.
“Ryan Bellamy is the founder's son.”
Brooke nodded.
I couldn't speak.
May you like
Then she whispered, “He was the one who introduced me to Evan.”
And the entire room seemed to lose its air.
