Chapter 7 - THE SECRET SOMEONE WANTED TO STEALI stared at the photograph until the edges of the screen blurred.
Someone had followed me.
Someone knew I was pregnant.
And someone wanted me to understand that my child could become another weapon in the fight over my marriage.
"Where did this come from?" I asked.
Maya swallowed.
"An unknown email address. It arrived about ten minutes ago."
"Did you forward it to Nadia?"
"Already done."
I took her phone.
The photograph had been captured through a car window.
I remembered that morning.
The cold air.
The nervousness in my stomach.
The moment I stepped out of the clinic clutching a small envelope.
I'd been so happy.
For two years, every negative test had made the next one harder to face.
I had finally reached a morning when hope outweighed disappointment.
And someone had been watching.
My hands started trembling.
"Elena, sit down."
"I can't."
"You need to."
I looked at her.
"What if they send this to Grant?"
"Then we'll deal with it."
"What if they send it to the press?"
Maya paused.
"Then we protect you."
I laughed shakily.
"How?"
"One step at a time."
She helped me onto the couch.
Nadia called a few minutes later.
"I've reviewed the message," she said. "Don't respond."
"Do you think it's Rebecca?"
"I don't know. We shouldn't make accusations without evidence."
"Someone knows my appointment schedule."
"Have you shared it with anyone?"
I thought carefully.
The doctor's office.
My own private email.
A calendar reminder I'd created using the tablet at home.
The tablet.
Grant and I had shared a household calendar for years.
His assistant could view some appointments for scheduling purposes.
Rebecca had been inside the townhouse.
My stomach tightened.
"I may know how they got the date."
Nadia listened.
Then she asked me to document every account, device, and person who might have had access.
She also recommended notifying the clinic that my privacy might have been compromised and asking it to verify its security procedures.
I followed her advice.
The clinic assured me that no unauthorized release appeared in its records.
That was a relief.
But it didn't explain the photograph.
By the following morning, Maya had helped me change passwords, secure my accounts, and remove my personal calendar from our shared household system.
I hated that it was necessary.
I hated even more that the most important experience of my life had become something I needed to defend.
At the atelier, I tried to concentrate on work.
Our spring collection was built around a simple idea.
Clothing for women whose lives did not fit neatly into other people's expectations.
Structured jackets with adjustable silhouettes.
Dresses designed for movement.
Soft tailoring that allowed women to feel beautiful without sacrificing comfort.
I'd named the collection Unwritten.
Months earlier, the title had seemed poetic.
Now it felt personal.
Rosa noticed my distraction.
"You're holding those scissors backward."
I looked down.
She was right.
I set them aside.
"Sorry."
She pulled up a chair.
"May I give you some advice?"
"Of course."
"When my husband left, I thought I had to prove I could survive without needing anyone."
I knew Rosa had raised two children alone.
She rarely discussed those years.
"I worked double shifts. I skipped meals. I pretended I was never frightened."
She glanced toward the workshop.
"One day, my daughter told me she wasn't afraid because I was weak. She was afraid because I wouldn't let anybody help me."
My eyes filled.
Rosa touched my shoulder.
"Strength isn't doing everything alone."
I wanted to tell her.
About the baby.
About how scared I was.
But I only nodded.
"Thank you."
That afternoon, Nadia arrived with encouraging news.
Northline had agreed to release a portion of our finished inventory while the payment dispute was investigated.
It wasn't enough to restore full production.
But it gave us breathing room.
More importantly, an outside auditor had confirmed that the payments we made were received by Mercer Treasury Services.
Our company had fulfilled its financial obligations.
"That's good," I said.
"It is. But there is something else."
Nadia opened another folder.
The funds had been transferred into Hale Strategic Partners under a description labeled market expansion consulting reserve.
The authorization had been processed by Mercer Holdings' chief operating and financial officer, Oliver Brant.
I knew Oliver.
He was one of Grant's most trusted executives.
A quiet man in expensive gray suits who rarely spoke at dinners unless someone asked about financial markets.
"Oliver?" I repeated.
Nadia nodded.
"His credentials appear on the transaction records."
"Does Grant know?"
"His legal team received the same information."
I remembered Grant telling me someone had misused his approval.
Maybe he had been telling the truth.
At least about that.
"Can we recover the money?"
"Possibly. We're seeking the relevant account records and preparing a claim if necessary."
I looked through the glass into the workshop.
Rosa was showing an apprentice how to set a difficult sleeve.
The company suddenly seemed both precious and vulnerable.
"I don't care about embarrassing Grant."
Nadia nodded.
"I know."
"I just want the people who work here to keep their jobs."
"That's what we're fighting for."
That evening, I received a call from Daniel Price.
Grant's assistant.
"Mrs. Mercer?"
"Elena."
"Elena, I need to speak with you privately."
I glanced at Maya.
"About what?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Mr. Brant has been directing the finance team to prepare a substantial write-down of your atelier's value."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Because he's proposing that Mercer Ventures acquire the remaining shares."
I stared at the wall.
"My shares?"
"Yes."
"I haven't offered them for sale."
"I know."
"Then how can he propose buying them?"
"By creating enough financial pressure that the offer looks like a rescue."
My breath caught.
Daniel lowered his voice.
"There's more."
"What?"
"I saw the internal valuation."
"And?"
"It's less than a quarter of what independent investors valued your company at six months ago."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"Daniel, why are you telling me this?"
He was silent for several seconds.
Then he answered.
"Because I helped prepare the original reports. The numbers were changed after I submitted them."
"By whom?"
"I can't prove it yet."
"Daniel—"
"Elena, Rebecca wasn't hired to improve your business."
His voice trembled.
"She was brought in to make sure you lost control of it."
I closed my eyes.
May you like
Then he said something worse.
"And according to the documents I've seen, your husband was supposed to receive the final acquisition proposal tomorrow."
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