Chapter 5: The Deal She Tried to Make
They had found Victoria in the east sitting room on the ground floor — a formal space that nobody used, with high-backed chairs and a writing desk that had belonged to Ethan's grandfather.
She was seated at that desk when we walked in, her champagne gown pooled around the chair like she had simply decided to wait.
She wasn't alone.
Standing beside her, one hand resting on the back of her chair, was a man I had never seen before.
He was around forty, broad-shouldered, in a dark suit that looked more legal than social.
He had the particular stillness of someone who was paid to stay calm in rooms where other people weren't.
"Ethan." Victoria stood the moment she saw him.
Her eyes were dry now.
The performance from upstairs was gone.
What replaced it was something more deliberate.
"Before you say anything, I need you to listen."
"You have nothing to say that I want to hear," Ethan said.
"This is Marcus Hale," she said, gesturing to the man beside her.
"He's my attorney.
And he's here because what happened upstairs was a misunderstanding that is about to become very expensive for both of us if you don't sit down and talk to me for five minutes."
"A misunderstanding," Ethan repeated.
"I was not going to hurt Leo." Her voice was controlled, precise.
"I was upset.
I was stressed.
I behaved badly and I am willing to acknowledge that.
But there was no intent, Ethan.
No jury in this country would look at a bride on her wedding morning and conclude intent to harm."
"There's a scorch mark on the sofa," Ethan said.
"An accident with the iron." She spread her hands.
"I was trying to press a loose thread on the blanket.
I lost my grip.
It happens."
"You told me Leo was an obstacle," Ethan said.
"You said as long as he exists, you'll always be second place."
Victoria's jaw tightened.
"I was frightened and I said something I didn't mean."
"I heard it," I said from behind Ethan.
She looked at me.
The control in her face didn't slip, but something behind her eyes went very cold.
"You," she said, "are a woman who lied her way into this household using a dead woman's name as cover.
I wouldn't be citing your testimony as reliable."
"My testimony is recorded," I said.
"I've had a baby monitor camera in the nursery since my third week here.
It transmits to my phone."
The attorney's hand came off the back of Victoria's chair.
Victoria went still.
"Sophie asked me to look after Leo," I said.
"I took that seriously.
The camera has been there for ten months.
It recorded everything that happened in that nursery this morning."
"That recording was made without consent," the attorney said immediately.
"It's inadmissible and potentially illegal under Illinois—"
"It's a nursery camera," Ethan said flatly.
"In my house.
On my property.
Monitoring my son.
My legal team will be very interested to hear your argument about that."
Victoria turned to her attorney.
Something passed between them — a look, a small shake of his head.
She turned back to Ethan.
"What do you want?" she said.
The performance was entirely gone now.
What was left was something stripped and direct.
"Name it.
Money?
I'll sign whatever you want.
A non-disclosure, a settlement, a formal apology — I'll do it.
But don't call the police, Ethan.
Don't do that to me."
"I already called them," Ethan said.
"They're on their way."
"Then call them back." She stepped forward.
Her voice dropped.
"Because if this goes public, I will make sure Clara's connection to Daniel Mercer becomes the story.
I will make sure every journalist in Chicago knows that the woman who quote-unquote saved your son was planted in your house by a man who spent two years trying to destroy your company.
I will burn her down with me, Ethan.
I promise you that."
Ethan looked at her for a long moment.
"Marcus," he said, addressing the attorney directly, "your client just threatened a witness in front of her own legal counsel.
I'd strongly recommend you write that down."
The attorney said nothing.
He picked up his briefcase from the floor beside the chair.
"Victoria." His voice was quiet.
"Don't say anything else."
She didn't listen.
"You think she's innocent?" Victoria's voice rose.
"Ask her why Daniel Mercer paid her rent for six months after his lawsuit failed.
Ask her who funded the application fee for the staffing agency she used to get into this house.
Ask her, Ethan—"
"Victoria." The attorney put a hand on her arm.
She stopped.
Her chest was heaving.
The champagne gown, which had looked so perfect that morning, had a grey smear along the hem from the marble floor where she had knelt.
Ethan turned to me.
His expression was unreadable.
"Did Mercer pay your rent?" he asked.
"Yes," I said.
"For three months, not six.
He knew I was trying to get close to Leo.
He thought I was doing it for him."
"Were you?"
"No," I said.
"I was doing it for Sophie."
Ethan held my gaze for three full seconds.
Then he turned back to Victoria.
"The police will be here in approximately eight minutes," he said.
"I'd suggest you use that time to call someone who actually cares what happens to you."
Two uniformed officers arrived at seven minutes past the hour.
Victoria did not go quietly.
She said Ethan's name four times on the way out of the sitting room, each time with less of whatever had been holding her together.
The attorney followed without speaking.
May you like
I stood in the hallway and watched them go.
Then I went back upstairs to check on Leo.
