Chapter 6 - The Woman Beside Her Mother’s Grave
Sophie drove to the cemetery alone.
She did not tell Daniel.
She did not tell Victor.
She stood before Evelyn Grant’s grave holding one of the photographs of Victor and Helena.
Rain darkened the stone.
For years Helena had come here with Sophie every May.
Sometimes Victor did not.
Helena always remembered Evelyn’s favorite flowers.
White peonies.
Now Sophie wondered whether guilt had chosen them.
Her phone rang.
Victor.
This time she answered.
“You hired someone to follow me?”
“You forged my signature.”
“I did not.”
“You hid Mom’s trust.”
“I managed it.”
“You had an affair with Helena.”
Silence.
That silence confirmed more than denial would have.
Sophie closed her eyes.
“How long?”
“Sophie.”
“How long?”
Victor’s voice softened.
“You don’t want to do this over the phone.”
“How long?”
“Twelve years.”
Sophie stopped breathing.
Her mother died seven years earlier.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
“Sophie—”
“You were sleeping with her while Mom was alive?”
Victor said nothing.
Sophie dropped the photograph.
Rain soaked it instantly.
“My God.”
“It wasn’t what you think.”
She laughed in disbelief.
“What could I possibly be thinking that makes twelve years better?”
“Your mother and I were struggling.”
“She was your wife.”
“I know.”
“She trusted Helena.”
“I know.”
Sophie’s voice broke.
“You let Helena stand beside me at Mom’s funeral.”
Victor began crying.
Sophie had heard him cry only once before.
The morning Evelyn died.
“I was ashamed.”
“You weren’t ashamed enough to stop.”
“No.”
That honesty was almost unbearable.
Sophie hung up.
At Grant Premier headquarters, Helena entered Victor’s office.
He threw his phone onto the desk.
“She knows.”
Helena remained still.
“About us?”
“Yes.”
“Who told her?”
“Photographs.”
Helena closed her eyes.
“Her lawyer.”
“Probably.”
Victor stared at her.
“You should have been more careful.”
Helena looked at him in disbelief.
“After twelve years, that is what you say?”
“You knew we were exposed.”
“And you grabbed me in a parking garage yesterday.”
“You touched me.”
“Because you were falling apart.”
Victor stood.
“We do not have time for this.”
Helena laughed quietly.
“No. We stopped having time the moment you threw Daniel Price’s ring.”
Victor slammed his hand onto the desk.
“Stop blaming the ring!”
“I am not blaming the ring.”
She stepped closer.
“I am blaming your need to humiliate anyone you think is beneath you.”
Victor looked away.
Helena continued.
“If Daniel had been an ordinary software founder, you would still have been wrong.”
“I wanted better for Sophie.”
“You wanted richer.”
“He looked like he had nothing.”
“And that offended you.”
Victor glared.
Helena’s voice lowered.
“Because after everything we did to keep Grant Premier alive, the idea that Sophie could simply choose a man without measuring his balance sheet made you furious.”
Victor stared.
“You’re psychoanalyzing me now?”
“I’ve loved you for twelve years. I’m qualified.”
The word loved changed the room.
Victor sat.
Helena remained standing.
“Do you still?”
He asked it quietly.
She hesitated.
That hesitation frightened him more than anything Price had found.
At Greyline, Daniel’s problems were multiplying.
A major fleet client suspended negotiations after Victor Grant appeared on financial television and suggested Daniel may have concealed his Price family connection to gain “informal access” to Grant Premier.
Daniel watched the interview.
Victor never directly accused him of industrial espionage.
He did not need to.
Maya Chen entered his office.
“They’re asking whether Greyline shared customer telemetry with Price.”
“We didn’t.”
“I know.”
Daniel stood.
“Release a statement.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because if we sound defensive before anyone has accused us formally, we amplify it.”
Daniel rubbed his jaw.
Maya continued.
“We need outside counsel and an independent data review.”
He nodded.
Another cost.
Another consequence of the identity he had hidden.
His phone displayed Sophie’s name.
He answered immediately.
“Sophie?”
She was silent.
“What happened?”
“My father was sleeping with Helena before Mom died.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that.”
He waited.
“She came to the cemetery with me.”
Daniel remained silent.
“She held my hand at Mom’s funeral.”
“I’m here.”
Sophie started crying.
Not loudly.
Daniel sat on the floor beside his desk.
For twenty minutes he listened.
When she finally stopped, she whispered, “I hate that you’re the person I wanted to call.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m still furious at you.”
“You can be.”
“That’s not convenient.”
“No.”
Silence.
Then she asked, “Did your father ever cheat on your mother?”
Daniel looked toward the window.
“No.”
“Were they happy?”
“Not always.”
“Then what destroyed you two?”
“My mother died. He turned grief into work. I turned grief into leaving.”
Sophie breathed slowly.
“Maybe every family is just people hurting each other while saying they’re protecting something.”
Daniel thought of Victor.
William.
Himself.
“Sometimes.”
She hung up without saying goodbye.
An hour later Rachel Stein called Sophie.
“We found something else.”
Alder Street Advisory had received $3.4 million from Grant Premier.
The LLC had purchased a lake house eight years earlier.
Title was held by Helena.
Mortgage payments came from Alder Street.
Sophie had visited that lake house twice as a teenager.
Helena told her it belonged to “a family friend.”
Rachel continued.
“The first purchase payment occurred while your mother was alive.”
Sophie’s stomach turned.
Then Rachel added:
“There’s another transaction. Two weeks before Evelyn died, six hundred thousand dollars moved from the Grant Family Trust into Alder Street.”
Sophie whispered, “My mother’s money?”
“Yes.”
“Who authorized it?”
May you like
Rachel paused.
“Victor.”
