Current location: Novel nest He Chose His First Love—So I Went Back to Mine Chapter 2 — My Father Sold Me Twice

"He Chose His First Love—So I Went Back to Mine" Chapter 2 — My Father Sold Me Twice

Chapter 2 — My Father Sold Me Twice

"Vanessa," I said.

Adrian stared at me.

"You asked who else might benefit. Vanessa would. Every cruel comment makes you defend her. Every headline gives her another reason to need you."

His expression hardened. "Listen to yourself."

"I am. For the first time in five years."

I bent to gather the pages. The email screenshots looked convincing, but the messages had come from an executive account I had never controlled. Richard Bennett's authorization code appeared at the bottom of every media request.

My father had created the lie, then handed Adrian my name.

Adrian caught my chin and forced me to look up. His fingers were cold.

"Vanessa has been treated for depression," he said. "She cannot withstand this kind of public attack."

"Then ask my father why he launched it."

"He already told me why. You asked him to."

The certainty in his eyes hurt more than his grip.

"You have known me for five years," I said. "You have known her for three weeks since she came back."

His hand loosened, but he did not apologize.

"For the sake of everything we survived, I won't pursue this. But if you hurt her again, I won't protect you."

"You stopped protecting me a long time ago."

He flinched almost imperceptibly. Then his phone lit with Vanessa's name, and he walked out while answering it.

I waited until the door closed before calling my father.

"You used my name."

"Come to the house," Richard said. "We need to discuss your divorce."

I had not entered the Bennett mansion in five years.

Nothing had changed. My mother's portrait was still missing from the foyer, while photographs of Diane and Vanessa covered the piano. Even the lilies were the same pale pink flowers my stepmother preferred.

Vanessa sat curled beside our father on the living room sofa. Diane occupied the chair across from them, one ankle resting elegantly over the other.

They looked like a family portrait that had finally erased its mistake.

"There she is," Diane said. "The temporary wife."

Richard did not offer me a seat.

"Vanessa and Adrian belong together. You will finish the divorce quickly and without embarrassing this family."

I almost laughed.

"Five years ago, Vanessa ran because Adrian was poor. You were afraid he would blame the Bennetts for abandoning him, so you sent me in her place. Now he's rich again, and you want a second exchange."

Vanessa's face reddened. "I was twenty-two. I was terrified."

"So was I. The difference is that no one allowed me to leave."

Richard's gaze turned glacial. "Do not pretend you had no choice."

"You threatened to stop Noah's treatment."

The name silenced the room.

Noah Hayes had been my best friend before he became my first love. Three months before graduation, a truck ran a red light and struck us in an intersection. Noah turned the wheel so the impact hit his side.

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I walked away with a fractured wrist.

He never woke up.

His medical insurance expired after months of intensive care. Richard stepped in through a private trust, transferring Noah to a long-term neurological facility whose location he refused to disclose.

On the night Vanessa fled, he offered me a bargain: marry Adrian, and Noah would keep breathing.

Refuse, and the trust would close by morning.

"That arrangement can still change," Richard said quietly. "If you make this difficult, Noah can be moved somewhere less expensive."

The old threat landed exactly where he intended.

I kept my face blank.

"You're right. I have no reason to make this difficult."

Vanessa blinked.

I opened my leather folder and placed a contract on the table.

"Adrian is worth hundreds of millions now. As his wife, I can fight for a share of the marital assets. I can subpoena financial records, challenge transfers, and keep this divorce alive in court for years."

Diane sat forward. "You wouldn't dare."

"Or I can leave quietly in exchange for forty percent of Bennett Hospitality."

Her laugh was sharp. "That company belongs to Vanessa."

"That company was built with my mother's inheritance. Richard contributed a name and then removed Eleanor Bennett from every corporate record after she died. Forty percent is less than what her estate was owed."

Richard's mouth flattened.

I slid a second page toward him. "The shares go into an independent escrow account today. Once the transfer is verified, Vanessa gets the divorce proposal."

"You think you can blackmail me in my own house?"

"No. I think you can decide what it costs to buy the same daughter twice."

Vanessa sprang from the sofa.

"Give it to her! I won't spend another month being called Adrian's mistress because she's too greedy to leave."

"Vanessa," Diane warned.

"I want her gone."

That was the weakness I had counted on. Vanessa had never been able to wait for anything she believed belonged to her.

Richard read the agreement twice. My attorney had drafted it so that the transfer could not be canceled simply because the divorce later became inconvenient. He would still control the majority of voting shares, but forty percent would sit beyond his reach.

"If Adrian refuses to sign, I take these shares back," he said.

"No. I can deliver the agreement. I cannot control him. You taught me that no one controls Adrian Cole."

His pen hovered.

I turned toward the door.

"Wait," Vanessa snapped.

Richard signed.

An electronic confirmation reached my attorney less than twenty minutes later. The shares had been placed in escrow under the terms we had agreed.

Only then did I remove the divorce packet from my bag.

Vanessa took it with both hands.

"The petition has already been filed," I said. "This is the proposed settlement and acknowledgment of service. Since Adrian reads every document his lawyers put in front of him, I assume you have a plan."

Her triumphant smile returned.

"He'll sign anything if I ask at the right moment."

"Then choose your moment carefully."

I left them with the paperwork and drove to Green-Wood Cemetery.

My mother's grave was the only place in New York that had ever felt like home.

I placed a copy of the escrow agreement beneath the white roses and rested my hand on her name.

"I got part of it back," I whispered. "Not enough. But it's a beginning."

My phone vibrated.

The message was from Vanessa.

She had photographed the divorce packet beside Adrian's watch on his bedside table.

Under it, she had written one sentence.

You gave me the papers, Clara. Now learn how to disappear quietly.

 

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