Chapter 3: What the Phone Already Knew
The name on the screen was Diane Voss.
My aunt.
The only living person who knew exactly who I was, what I owned, and what I had spent two years hiding.
Grant's thumb moved toward the phone.
I got there first.
I picked it up and answered before he could stop me.
"Isabelle." My aunt's voice was tight.
Not surprised.
Tight.
"Are you safe?"
"I'm fine."
"I'm calling because something came across my desk tonight that you need to know about.
Something about Grant Ashworth."
Grant lunged for the phone.
I stepped back and held up one hand.
He stopped.
Something in my face made him stop.
"Tell me," I said.
"Three weeks ago, a man named Grant Ashworth filed a private inquiry with a financial research firm.
He was trying to identify the beneficial owner of Voss Capital.
He paid for a full background trace."
The room went very quiet.
"He was looking for me."
"He found you six days before the wedding," Diane said.
"Isabelle, he knew."
I lowered the phone slowly.
Grant was watching me.
His shirt was still dripping.
A small puddle had formed on the hardwood floor near his left foot.
"You knew," I said.
"Before the wedding.
You already knew who I was."
"Isabelle, let me explain—"
"How long have you known?"
He didn't answer immediately.
That was its own answer.
Rosalind had gone very still near the doorway.
The business card was still in her hand.
"Grant." My voice was steady.
"How long."
"Six days," he said.
"I found out six days before."
"And you said nothing."
"I didn't think it would change anything."
"You sl@pped me on our wedding night.
You told me to wash your father's underwear.
You let your mother call me nothing." I looked at him.
"You knew exactly what I was worth and you still did all of that."
"It wasn't like that."
"Then tell me what it was like."
He opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"I was scared you'd leave if you knew I'd found out.
I thought if we were already married—"
"You thought I'd be trapped."
Rosalind took one step forward.
"Now, just a moment.
My son made a mistake, but you're not exactly innocent.
You lied to this entire family for two years.
You pretended to be someone you weren't."
"I tested whether your son was a decent man." I turned to face her.
"He failed."
"You had no right—"
"I had every right.
And now I have every answer I needed."
I picked up my handbag again.
My aunt was still on the line.
I could hear her breathing.
"Diane," I said.
"Call Marcus.
Tell him I'll need the separation documentation prepared by Monday morning."
"Already drafted," she said quietly.
"I had a feeling."
Grant's face changed.
The calculation in it — the careful, managed expression he'd been holding — cracked open.
"Isabelle.
Wait.
You don't have to do this tonight."
"I'm not doing anything tonight.
Tonight is already done."
I walked to the door.
Grant didn't move to block it this time.
Rosalind's voice followed me into the hallway.
"You think you can just walk away?
You think this is over?"
I didn't turn around.
But in the elevator, riding down alone in my wedding dress with my aunt still on the phone, I heard Rosalind's last word echo in a way that didn't feel like anger.
It felt like a warning.
And Diane, as if she'd heard it too, said: "Isabelle.
There's one more thing.
The research firm Grant hired — he wasn't the one who suggested it."
I pressed the lobby button a second time, though it was already lit.
"Who did?"
May you like
A pause.
"Someone inside your company."
