Chapter 9: What Diana Said to My Face
Diana Voss opened her front door and looked at me the way she had looked at me across the conference table fourteen months ago.
Like she was measuring the distance between what she wanted and what she was going to have to accept.
She was still beautiful.
She had always been beautiful.
That had never been the problem.
"Michael," she said.
"Diana." I didn't wait for an invitation.
I walked past her into the front hallway.
She closed the door behind me.
The townhouse was neat, carefully arranged, the kind of space that looked curated rather than lived in.
There were no photographs of Noah anywhere.
"I know why you're here," she said.
"Then we can skip the part where you pretend to be surprised." I turned to face her.
"Richard Hale talked."
Something moved in her expression.
Not surprise.
More like the quiet recalculation of someone adjusting a plan.
"Richard is a desperate man who will say anything to protect himself," she said.
"He gave me dates, account numbers, and the name of the attorney who set up the Delaware shell.
He also confirmed the note." I watched her face carefully.
"The one you left for Margaret.
*He will not make it to eight months.*"
Diana walked to the window.
She stood with her back to me, looking out at the oak trees.
"I want my son," she said.
"That's all I have ever wanted."
"You signed away custody."
"Under duress." She turned around.
"You had three law firms and six months of financial pressure.
I had nothing.
I signed because I had no choice."
"You had a choice tonight," I said.
"You chose to put a note behind a thermostat."
"I chose to fight for my child." Her voice rose slightly.
"You took him from me, Michael.
You took him and put him in that house with your guards and your staff and your thirty million dollars, and you thought that was enough.
You thought money was enough." She took a step toward me.
"He almost d!ed tonight because of what I did.
I know that.
I have to live with that.
But he also almost d!ed because you weren't paying attention.
Because you never pay attention to anything that doesn't have a dollar value attached to it."
The room was very quiet.
"His nanny noticed," I said.
"The maid noticed.
I didn't." I held her gaze.
"You're right about that."
Diana blinked.
She had not expected agreement.
"But being right about my failures doesn't make what you did survivable," I said.
"You hired someone to harm our son.
That's not a custody dispute.
That's a crjme.
And the DA is going to treat it as one."
"I want a deal," she said.
Her voice had gone flat and businesslike.
"I'll give you Hale's full involvement, the shell documentation, everything.
In exchange for supervised visitation rights and reduced charges."
"You should talk to your attorney about deals."
"I'm talking to you."
"Diana." I kept my voice level.
"You left a note that said our son would not make it to eight months.
There is no version of that conversation I'm willing to have with you directly." I picked up my jacket from the hall chair.
"Call Grace Whitmore's office.
She'll tell you what's on the table."
I walked to the door.
"Michael." Her voice stopped me.
"Is he all right?
Noah.
Is he actually all right?"
I stood with my hand on the door.
"He gripped my finger this morning," I said.
"He knew my voice."
I heard Diana make a sound behind me.
I didn't turn around to see what kind of sound it was.
I walked out and closed the door behind me.
Frank was at the car.
He looked at my face and asked nothing.
May you like
"Grace," I said.
"Now."
