CHAPTER 17

I almost turned around before I knocked. Grace's house looked exactly the way I remembered it—small, quiet, and tucked behind a row of old trees. Nothing about it had changed, yet standing there with Meridian Holdings still hanging over my head made everything feel different. I raised my hand and knocked. Once. Twice. For several seconds, there was no answer. Then I heard the lock turn. The door opened only a few inches. Grace looked through the gap, and the moment she saw me, her expression changed. "Chloe?" "Hi, Aunt Grace."

She stared at me as though she hadn't expected to see me standing there. Then her eyes dropped briefly to my stomach. Her face softened. "You should have called." "I did." "I mean before coming." "I know." She hesitated before opening the door wider. "Come in."

I stepped inside. The familiar smell of cinnamon and old books greeted me. Grace had always kept the place warm and comfortable, the kind of home where nothing seemed urgent. Today, even the silence felt tense. She closed the door behind me. "What happened?" she asked. I looked at her. "You called me yesterday." Grace's fingers tightened around the edge of her cardigan. "I did." "You told me to stay away from Meridian Holdings." Her eyes immediately shifted away. "I shouldn't have said anything." "Then why did you?"

Her eyes immediately shifted away. "I shouldn't have said anything." "Then why did you?" She didn't answer. I followed her into the living room and sat on the edge of the sofa. Grace remained standing. That bothered me. She was nervous. I'd known Grace my entire life. She wasn't easily frightened, and she certainly wasn't the kind of person who panicked over a company name. "How do you know Meridian?" I asked. "I don't." "That's not true." She finally looked at me. "Chloe—" "You recognized the name immediately." "I've heard it before." "From where?" Silence.

I swallowed. "Was it connected to my father?" The question hit her harder than I expected. Her face went completely still. Then she walked toward the kitchen. "I'll make some tea." "Aunt Grace." She stopped. "I'm not here for tea." Her shoulders dropped. "I know."

I stood. "I found money in Liam's account." She slowly turned around. "Money?" "From Meridian Holdings. Seventy-five thousand dollars, then more payments after that." Grace's face lost what little color it had. "It happened before Liam's affair with Zoe," I continued. "Before everything started falling apart." Grace stared at me. "Someone was paying him." "Chloe, you need to stop looking." "Why?" "Because you don't know what you're getting involved in." "Neither do you, apparently." Her eyes hardened. "You think this is a game?" "No." "Then listen to me." "I am listening." "Stay away from Meridian." "You already told me that." "And I'm telling you again." "Why?"

Grace opened her mouth. Nothing came out. I stepped closer. "Why are you afraid of this?" "I'm not afraid." "You are." "I'm trying to protect you." "From who?" She looked toward the window. For a moment, she seemed to be listening for something outside. Then she lowered her voice. "Does Adrian know you're here?"

My stomach tightened. "Why does that matter?" "It matters." "Why?" Grace's eyes returned to mine. "Because you shouldn't trust that family." I stared at her. "What does Adrian have to do with Meridian?" She didn't answer. I took another step. "Aunt Grace, tell me." "You need to leave." "No." "Chloe." "No. You called me yesterday and warned me about Meridian. Now I'm standing in front of you, and you're acting like you've seen a ghost."

Grace's lips trembled. "Please." "I deserve the truth." "You don't know what the truth will do to you." "I already have people destroying my reputation, threatening me, attacking my career, and trying to take my baby from me." My voice shook, but I didn't stop. "If there is something about my family that I need to know, tell me."

Grace closed her eyes. I waited. When she opened them again, there was something in them I'd never seen before. Regret. Fear. And grief. "What's Adrian's full name?" she asked quietly. I frowned. "You know his name." "Say it." "Adrian Vance." Grace went pale. Not nervous. Not surprised. Pale. I felt something cold move through me. "You know that name."

She turned away. "Aunt Grace?" She walked to the window. Her hand pressed against the curtain, but she didn't pull it aside. "How long have you known Adrian?" "I don't know him." "That's not what I asked." "I've never met him before." "But you know his family." She didn't answer. "Grace." "Please stop." "No."

I could hear my own heartbeat. "What happened between my father and the Vances?" Her breathing changed. For several seconds, she stood with her back to me. Then she whispered, "Your father didn't hate powerful people." I waited. "He was never afraid of them either." My throat tightened. "What are you saying?" Grace slowly turned around. "Your father believed people could be trusted until they gave him a reason not to trust them." "Did a Vance give him that reason?"

Her eyes filled with tears. I froze. "Did they?" Grace looked at me, and something inside her finally broke. "Your father died because of a Vance."

The room went silent. I couldn't breathe. "What?" Grace shook her head. "No." "You just said—" "I shouldn't have." "Which Vance?" She turned away. "Tell me." "I can't." "Which Vance?" "I can't tell you." "Was it Robert?" Grace said nothing. "Was it Adrian?" Her head snapped toward me. "No." The answer came too quickly. My heart pounded. "Then who?" Grace covered her mouth with one hand. "I can't." "You know." "Chloe, please." "Did Robert hurt my father?" She looked at me. And the silence was worse than an answer.

I felt tears burning behind my eyes. All my life, I'd been told my father died years ago. There had never been a mystery. Never a warning. Never a reason to question what I'd been told. But now Grace was standing in front of me, terrified by Adrian's name, warning me about Meridian, and telling me my father's death was connected to a Vance. "Why didn't you tell me before?" Grace's eyes filled with tears. "Because your father made me promise." "A promise to do what?" "To keep you away from them." "Who?" She shook her head. "Grace." "I can't." "Who killed my father?"

She looked at me for one long, painful moment. Then she whispered, "Go home, Chloe." I couldn't move. "Please." "You're asking me to walk away after telling me my father died because of a Vance?" "I am asking you to stay alive."

My blood ran cold. Grace turned toward the window again. "I won't say another word." "Why?" She didn't answer. I stepped backward. For the first time in my life, I looked at my aunt and realized she wasn't hiding a small family secret. She was hiding something that had haunted her for years. Something connected to my father. Something connected to the Vances. And somehow, I was already standing in the middle of it. Grace refused to look at me again.

I reached for the door. But before I left, one thought hit me so hard that I nearly turned back. If my father died because of a Vance... why had Grace been so afraid when I said Adrian's name?