Chapter 3 - My Mother's Lie
My mother had always been untouchable.
She had raised me to believe that family loyalty came before everything.
She taught me never to expose family secrets.
Never to question blood.
Never to embarrass the Vale name.
I had obeyed her for most of my life.
Until Clara.
I found my mother in the library that afternoon.
She was drinking tea beside the fireplace.
She looked up.
“Adrian.”
“Did you visit Clara three years ago?”
Her expression didn't change.
“Why?”
“Answer me.”
She placed her cup down.
“Yes.”
“Did you tell her I wanted a divorce?”
Silence.
“Yes.”
My heart pounded.
“Why?”
“Because you were miserable.”
“That wasn't your decision.”
“You were becoming weak.”
I stared at her.
“Weak?”
“Clara made you soft.”
“She was my wife.”
“She was a liability.”
I stepped closer.
“Did you show her photographs of me with another woman?”
My mother looked away.
“Yes.”
“Who was the woman?”
She didn't answer.
“Who?”
“A model.”
“Was I sleeping with her?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because I needed Clara to leave.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“You destroyed my marriage.”
“I saved your future.”
“No.”
My voice shook.
“You destroyed my family.”
My mother stood.
“You had no idea what Clara was doing.”
“What was she doing?”
“She was pregnant.”
“I know.”
“You think that child is yours?”
I froze.
“What?”
My mother looked at me.
“She never told you because she knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That the baby might not be yours.”
I felt the room tilt.
“Who told you that?”
“She did.”
I stepped backward.
“No.”
“She admitted it.”
“When?”
“Before she left.”
I couldn't breathe.
My mother continued.
“She was afraid you would discover the truth.”
I stared at her.
“You're lying.”
Her face hardened.
“Be careful.”
“No.”
I walked toward the door.
“You've lied to me for three years.”
“Adrian.”
I turned.
“If that baby isn't mine, I'll accept it.”
Her expression shifted.
“But if it is mine…”
I paused.
“…you will spend the rest of your life answering for what you did.”
I left.
Outside, Victor was waiting.
“Boss?”
“Get me a DNA test.”
He looked surprised.
“On the baby?”
“Yes.”
Then I stopped.
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Not yet.”
I couldn't turn Clara's pregnancy into another interrogation.
Instead, I went back upstairs.
Clara was standing by the window.
“You heard?”
“Yes.”
She looked terrified.
“What did she tell you?”
“That the baby might not be mine.”
Clara closed her eyes.
“Adrian…”
“Is it?”
She looked at me.
“Yes.”
The word was barely audible.
“Yes, the baby is yours.”
I couldn't speak.
“You knew?”
“I knew.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“No.”
She looked toward the window.
“Of what would happen if your mother found out.”
I stepped closer.
“What did she threaten you with?”
Clara's lips trembled.
“She said if I told you about the baby, she would make sure you never saw me again.”
My blood ran cold.
“She had people watching me.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“Why didn't you call the police?”
“Because she showed me photographs.”
“Of what?”
“Of you.”
I frowned.
“She showed me pictures of you entering a hospital.”
I remembered.
Three years ago, I'd spent a week visiting a friend in intensive care.
Clara hadn't known.
My mother had told her I was secretly meeting another woman there.
Everything had been manipulated.
Every photograph.
Every conversation.
Every misunderstanding.
And I'd spent three years believing Clara had simply chosen to leave me.
I sat down.
“What happened to the baby?”
Clara looked at her stomach.
“He survived.”
I looked at her.
“Survived?”
She nodded.
“I lost another pregnancy before him.”
My chest tightened.
“When?”
“After I left.”
I didn't know what to say.
She whispered:
“I was alone.”
That sentence destroyed me.
I reached for her hand.
She hesitated.
Then let me hold it.
“I should have found you,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“I should have listened.”
“Yes.”
“I should have protected you.”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
I lowered my head.
“I am sorry.”
For the first time in three years, Clara cried against my shoulder.
And I held her.
But neither of us saw the shadow beneath the bedroom door.
May you like
Someone had been listening.
And that person was about to make sure Clara never told me the rest of the truth.
