Chapter 3 - SOMEONE HAD BEEN WATCHING
Silas called security before Carolina could object.
Not company security.
Not a parade of black SUVs.
Darius Kane came alone.
He had served eight years in federal protective services before Silas recruited him, and he had the useful habit of walking into a room without making it feel smaller.
Carolina still hated having him there.
Silas could tell.
But she did not argue when Darius examined the photograph.
“Hospital?”
“Methodist,” Carolina said.
“Private room?”
“Yes.”
“Who knew you were delivering?”
“My mother. My sister. My doctor.”
“Staff?”
“Obviously.”
Darius nodded.
“Mr. Lockwood?”
Silas looked at him.
“I didn’t.”
Darius’s expression did not change.
He knew better than most people how dangerous that answer was.
Silas handed him the forged note.
“I want paper origin, printer source if possible, signature analysis, metadata if any remains.”
“Understood.”
“And the photograph.”
Darius looked at Carolina.
“Ms. Hayes, I’d recommend temporary security.”
“No.”
Silas opened his mouth.
Carolina raised one finger.
“No.”
Darius glanced between them.
“I can make it discreet.”
“I spent three years having Lockwood security follow me everywhere.”
“For protection,” Silas said.
“For observation.”
“That is not fair.”
“You received a report every time I changed hotels during assignments.”
“Because you photographed political demonstrations in foreign cities.”
“I photographed people.”
“In unstable regions.”
“See?”
Darius suddenly found the photograph fascinating.
Silas rubbed his jaw.
“What would you accept?”
Carolina shifted Gabriel against her shoulder.
“A camera at the entrance.”
“Already one downstairs.”
“One I control.”
“Fine.”
“Window sensors.”
“Fine.”
“No men sitting outside.”
Silas hesitated.
“Silas.”
“One car half a block away.”
“No.”
“Three blocks.”
“No.”
“Carolina, someone photographed you in a maternity ward.”
“And someone spent eight months convincing us to distrust one another. I am not letting fear become the next thing that controls me.”
The sentence landed.
Silas looked at Gabriel.
“Two blocks.”
Carolina stared at him.
Darius cleared his throat.
“One block, plain vehicle, rotating personnel, no visual presence unless required.”
Carolina sighed.
“Fine.”
Silas nearly smiled.
“You negotiated.”
“Don’t enjoy it.”
Darius left with the evidence.
Gabriel woke twenty minutes later and immediately began crying.
Silas stayed.
He did not ask permission.
Carolina noticed.
“Do you intend to stand in my living room all night?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Someone threatened you.”
“Someone threatened information.”
“Same difference.”
“No.”
Silas looked at her.
“Carolina.”
She exhaled.
“You can stay until midnight.”
“Morning.”
“Midnight.”
“Three.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Fine.”
He removed his suit jacket.
Carolina stared.
“What?”
“You negotiated again.”
“I dislike you.”
“I’ve heard.”
The corner of her mouth moved.
Barely.
Then Gabriel screamed louder.
The almost-smile disappeared.
“He needs feeding.”
Silas watched Carolina prepare a bottle.
“Formula?”
“Mostly pumped milk. Formula when I can’t keep up.”
“Can I?”
Her hand stopped.
“What?”
“Feed him.”
Silas had expected refusal.
Carolina surprised him.
“Sit down.”
He did.
She placed Gabriel in his arms and corrected his position.
“Keep him slightly upright.”
Silas nodded.
“Bottle angled.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t make him finish if he stops.”
“I understand.”
“You look terrified.”
“I’m not.”
“You negotiate with sovereign wealth funds for breakfast.”
“They don’t weigh seven pounds.”
“Six pounds eleven ounces.”
“That is worse.”
Carolina laughed.
It escaped before she could prevent it.
Silas looked up.
For one second, they were not divorced.
Then she remembered.
So did he.
Gabriel drank greedily.
Silas stared at him.
“You knew he was a boy?”
“At twenty weeks.”
“What did you think when they told you?”
Carolina sat opposite him.
“That you would have pretended not to care and then purchased every ridiculous thing in Manhattan.”
Silas smiled sadly.
“She was probably right,” he said, looking at Gabriel.
“I know.”
The quiet that followed was different.
Less hostile.
More dangerous.
Because tenderness made old grief sharper.
Silas broke it.
“Why Gabriel?”
“My grandfather.”
“I liked your grandfather.”
“He liked you too.”
“Until the divorce.”
“He died before the divorce.”
“Then I remain undefeated.”
Carolina rolled her eyes.
Gabriel’s eyes drifted shut.
Silas whispered, “He’s asleep.”
“He lies.”
“What?”
“Wait.”
Ten seconds.
Gabriel’s eyes opened.
Silas stared.
Carolina smiled.
“Told you.”
By eleven thirty, the baby finally stayed asleep in the bassinet.
Carolina sat with her head against the sofa.
Silas looked at the shadows beneath her eyes.
“Go to bed.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
“You trusted me to feed him.”
“That was temporary insanity.”
“Carolina.”
“I won’t sleep.”
“You already are.”
Her eyes opened.
“I’m awake.”
“Convincing.”
She tried to sit straighter.
Silas stood.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing dramatic.”
He picked up the cold tea, carried it to the kitchen, washed the mug, then began cleaning bottles.
Carolina stared.
“What?”
“I know how dishwashers work.”
“You once called building maintenance because our ice maker made a clicking noise.”
“It was an expensive refrigerator.”
“You thought it was dying.”
“It sounded unhealthy.”
Despite herself, she smiled again.
Silas washed every bottle on the counter.
Then folded three burp cloths.
Incorrectly.
Carolina eventually came over, took one from him, and refolded it.
“You’ve somehow made this rectangular cloth less rectangular.”
“I employ people for operations.”
“Not tonight.”
“No.”
Their eyes met.
Silas’s voice softened.
“I should have been here.”
Carolina looked down.
“Yes.”
“I should have known you were pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“I should have trusted you before that.”
Her hands stopped.
That one was harder.
Silas continued.
“I don’t know yet who fabricated those emails.”
“You still think someone did?”
“I know you.”
Carolina laughed softly.
“You knew me when it was convenient.”
He accepted that.
“Maybe.”
She looked at him.
He had never said maybe before.
Silas Lockwood had built his reputation by treating uncertainty like an enemy.
Tonight, uncertainty was the most honest thing he possessed.
His phone vibrated at 12:14.
Darius.
Silas answered immediately.
“What did you find?”
“The note was printed on company stationery from executive-floor stock.”
Silas’s jaw tightened.
“Printer?”
“Likely internal. Toner signature matches one of the machines retired six months ago.”
“Which machine?”
“Executive floor printer three.”
Carolina had gone still.
Silas asked, “Who had badge access?”
“You. Mrs. Eleanor Lockwood. Nathan Cross. Executive administration.”
Nathan.
His COO.
Best friend since graduate school.
The man who had stood beside Silas through the divorce.
“What else?”
Darius hesitated.
“The signature is reproduced from a scanned contract.”
“So definitely forged.”
“Yes.”
Carolina closed her eyes.
Silas looked at her.
One lie officially dead.
“What about the photo?”
Darius’s voice changed.
“We traced hospital security footage.”
Silas immediately knew the answer was bad.
“Who took it?”
“Not hospital staff.”
“Who?”
“Your mother visited Methodist Hospital the night Gabriel was born.”
Carolina’s face emptied.
Silas stood.
“My mother knew he had been born?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Unknown.”
“Did she enter Carolina’s room?”
“No. She remained in the corridor and left twelve minutes later.”
Silas felt something inside him go cold.
“Send me the footage.”
“I already did.”
The call ended.
Silas opened the video.
The timestamp read 2:41 a.m.
Carolina had given birth at 1:58.
There was Eleanor Lockwood.
Elegant even in the middle of the night.
Standing at the end of the maternity corridor.
Looking through the window.
Looking at her grandson.
Then raising her phone.
Carolina covered her mouth.
“She knew.”
Silas could barely speak.
“She knew for fifteen days.”
“No.”
Carolina shook her head.
“You don’t understand.”
“What?”
“She called me the morning after Gabriel was born.”
Silas stared.
“What did she say?”
Carolina’s eyes filled.
“She congratulated me.”
His stomach dropped.
“And then?”
“She said she hoped becoming a mother would finally teach me when to let something go.”
Silas stood motionless.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought she was simply cruel.”
“She threatened you.”
“She didn’t say anything direct.”
Silas looked at the photograph again.
He cannot know everything.
There was no longer any question who he needed to confront.
He grabbed his coat.
Carolina moved between him and the door.
“No.”
“Move.”
“You’re furious.”
“Yes.”
“That is exactly why you’re not going.”
“She forged my name.”
“We don’t know she physically did.”
“She watched my son through a hospital window while I didn’t know he existed.”
“Silas.”
His voice cracked for the first time.
“She saw him before I did.”
That stopped her.
The anger disappeared.
What remained was worse.
Grief.
Carolina stared at him.
Silas looked toward Gabriel.
His son slept peacefully.
“I missed the ultrasound.”
Carolina said nothing.
“I missed hearing his heartbeat.”
His breathing became shallow.
“I missed you getting bigger.”
Her eyes filled.
“I missed knowing whether you were safe.”
“Silas.”
“My mother knew.”
He looked at her.
“And she decided I didn’t deserve my own life.”
Carolina whispered, “I know.”
It was the first kind thing she had said to him all evening.
Silas’s phone rang again.
Darius.
“Sir, don’t go to your mother’s residence.”
Silas frowned.
“Why?”
“Because she’s not there.”
“Where is she?”
“We tracked her driver.”
Silas waited.
Darius said, “She’s at Lockwood Tower.”
“At one in the morning?”
“Yes.”
“Doing what?”
“We don’t know.”
Then another call came through.
Nathan Cross.
Silas stared at the screen.
Nathan never called this late unless something was wrong.
He answered.
“Silas, where are you?”
“Why?”
A pause.
“The board just received an emergency packet.”
“What packet?”
“Documents regarding your divorce, Carolina, and the confidential Vantage leak.”
Silas’s body went still.
Nathan continued.
“Someone is claiming you knowingly concealed evidence eight months ago.”
“What evidence?”
Another pause.
“The original server logs.”
Carolina stared at him.
Silas asked slowly, “What do they show?”
Nathan exhaled.
“That Carolina never sent those emails.”
Silas closed his eyes.
The foundation beneath the last eight months finally broke.
His wife had told the truth.
May you like
And someone inside his own company had known it all along.
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