Chapter 7 - The Warning My Ex-Husband Should Never Have Given Me
Michael’s warning confirmed one thing immediately.
He knew more than he was saying.
I glanced toward Richard.
He kept his face blank.
“Are you threatening me?”
I asked.
Michael recoiled.
“No.”
“It sounded like a threat.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“You had twelve years to try that.”
Pain flashed across his face.
“This is not about our marriage.”
“Then tell me what it is about.”
Michael looked toward Richard.
Richard stared at the floor as if he barely understood the conversation.
Michael lowered his voice.
“Ethan Vance is dangerous.”
“So is his brother, according to half of Chicago.”
Richard did not react.
Michael leaned closer.
“You need to leave.”
“Why?”
“I can’t explain.”
“Then you’re wasting your time.”
Michael’s hand closed around my wrist.
Not hard.
But without permission.
I looked down at it.
Then back at him.
“Remove your hand.”
He let go instantly.
“Valerie is gone.”
I froze.
“What?”
Michael looked pale.
“She resigned from Vitalis two weeks ago.”
I did not understand why he had mentioned her.
“Good for her.”
“She didn’t resign because of me.”
“Michael, I could not care less about your girlfriend.”
“She wasn’t my girlfriend anymore.”
“Congratulations.”
“Maya.”
Something in his voice stopped me.
“She found something.”
Richard’s eyes lifted slightly.
“What?”
I asked.
Michael looked toward the doorway.
“I can’t talk here.”
“You just told me to leave here.”
“Because you should.”
He picked up his equipment case.
Then he pulled a business card from his pocket.
On the back, he wrote something.
He handed it to me.
“If you ever decide you want the truth, call that number from a phone that isn’t yours.”
He left.
I stared at the card.
Richard waited.
“Well?”
I showed him.
The number was handwritten.
No name.
No explanation.
“Do you trust him?”
Richard asked.
“No.”
“Do you believe he’s scared?”
“Yes.”
That night, we returned to the wine room.
Richard managed to stand for nine seconds.
Then twelve.
Then he took half a step.
His right leg held.
His left nearly collapsed.
I caught him against my shoulder.
For a moment, his face was inches from mine.
We both became very still.
“Sorry.”
He whispered.
“You’re fine.”
I helped him back into the chair.
Neither of us mentioned the moment.
Instead, I took out Michael’s card.
“I’m calling.”
Richard nodded.
We used an old staff phone from a storage room.
I dialed.
A woman answered on the third ring.
“Hello?”
I knew the voice.
Valerie.
My husband’s former colleague.
The woman whose text had ended my marriage.
“This is Maya Carter.”
Silence.
Then Valerie inhaled sharply.
“Oh my God.”
“You know who I am.”
“Yes.”
“Michael gave me your number.”
More silence.
Then she whispered.
“Is Richard Vance alive?”
I looked at him.
“He’s alive.”
“No.”
Her voice trembled.
“I mean, is he really alive?”
I felt cold.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Valerie started crying.
Not loudly.
Not theatrically.
May you like
She sounded exhausted.
“Because according to internal Vitalis documents, Richard Vance was never supposed to survive that crash.”
