Chapter 3: The Woman Who Smiled While Lying
“Daniel?””
Patricia's voice floated up the staircase.
“Darling, where are you?””
I closed the bedroom closet and placed the black metal case back behind the wooden panel.
I had no intention of letting her know what I'd found.
Not yet.
I turned to Sophia.
“Listen carefully, sweetheart.””
She looked up at me.
“Go to your room. Lock the door. Take your tablet and call me if you hear anything strange.””
“Are you coming?””
“Yes.””
“Promise?””
I crouched and kissed her forehead.
“I promise.””
She nodded, but her fingers remained wrapped around mine for another moment.
Then she hurried down the hallway.
I waited until her bedroom door clicked shut before stepping onto the staircase.
Patricia was standing in the foyer.
Her sunglasses were pushed onto her head, and she was holding a shopping bag.
She looked up at me.
For half a second, her smile disappeared.
Then it returned.
“Daniel!””
She climbed the stairs and threw her arms around me.
“What a surprise!””
I didn't hug her back.
“You're home early.””
She laughed.
“Funny. I was going to say the same thing.””
I looked at her.
“Your vacation ended quickly.””
She shrugged.
“Evelyn wasn't feeling well. We decided to come back.””
Her mother appeared behind her.
“Daniel, sweetheart!””
Evelyn gave me a quick hug.
Melissa followed, carrying two shopping bags.
“Look who's home,” she said.
“The busy millionaire.””
I glanced at the bags.
“Looks like you had a good trip.””
Patricia laughed.
“Oh, we did. You should have seen the hotel.””
Then she looked around.
“Where's Sophia?””
I kept my expression neutral.
“Upstairs.””
“Why isn't she greeting us?””
“She's tired.””
Patricia tilted her head.
“Tired?””
“Yes.””
“From what?””
I looked directly at her.
“Washing clothes.””
Her smile froze.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“What?””
“She was washing clothes by hand in the laundry room.””
Patricia placed her shopping bag on the console table.
“Oh, that.””
She waved a hand dismissively.
“Daniel, please don't make it sound dramatic.””
“What's dramatic about an eight-year-old washing everyone's clothes?””
Patricia sighed.
“It's called responsibility.””
Evelyn stepped forward.
“Children need discipline. We didn't grow up with everything handed to us.””
I turned toward her.
“Did you know Sophia was doing all the laundry?””
Evelyn folded her arms.
“Patricia told me she was learning to help around the house.””
“By herself?””
“She's not a baby, Daniel.””
I looked back at Patricia.
“She was scrubbing bed sheets in cold water.””
Patricia gave a little laugh.
“Oh, honestly. She exaggerates everything.””
My hands curled into fists.
“Her hands were red.””
Patricia rolled her eyes.
“She's always been sensitive.””
Then she walked toward the kitchen as if the conversation were over.
I followed her.
“Where were you when I called this morning?””
She opened the refrigerator.
“Shopping.””
“Your phone was off.””
“The signal at the resort was terrible.””
“Which resort?””
She stopped.
It was a small pause.
Barely noticeable.
But I had begun paying attention to pauses.
“The Lakeview.””
“Lakeview?””
“Yes.””
I took out my phone.
“Interesting. Your location-sharing application shows you were in downtown Brookfield this morning.””
Patricia closed the refrigerator.
Her expression changed.
“Daniel, why are you tracking me?””
“I'm not. You enabled location sharing when we installed the family safety application.””
She folded her arms.
“That's invasive.””
I said nothing.
Melissa entered the kitchen.
“Are we really doing this now?””
I turned toward her.
“Doing what?””
“Interrogating Patricia because Sophia had to wash a few clothes?””
I looked at Melissa.
“Did you know she was alone?””
Melissa looked toward Patricia.
Patricia answered before she could speak.
“She wasn't alone. The housekeeper checked on her.””
I frowned.
“What housekeeper?””
“Mrs. Collins.””
“Mrs. Collins quit three weeks ago.””
Patricia's face hardened.
“Well, someone came.””
“Who?””
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
I took one step closer.
“Patricia, I want a name.””
Evelyn put her shopping bags down.
“Daniel, enough. You're making everyone uncomfortable.””
“Good. Maybe someone should be uncomfortable.””
Patricia stared at me.
Then she lowered her voice.
“Can we talk privately?””
I nodded.
We walked into the living room.
She closed the door behind us.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Patricia reached for my hand.
“Baby, I know how this looks.””
I pulled my hand away.
“Then explain it.””
She sighed.
“It's been difficult.””
“What has?””
“Being responsible for everything while you're away.””
I stared at her.
“You weren't responsible for everything. You were responsible for looking after my daughter.””
“Our daughter?”” she interrupted.
The words landed between us.
I looked at her.
“Excuse me?””
She blinked.
“I mean, Sophia is part of this family.””
“Then why does she look frightened every time you walk into a room?””
Patricia shook her head.
“She's always been difficult with me.””
“She's eight years old.””
“And I'm trying to raise her properly.””
I leaned forward.
“By making her believe she has to earn dinner?””
Patricia's eyes widened.
“Who told you that?””
There it was.
Not an apology.
Not concern.
A question.
I watched her carefully.
“Sophia.””
Patricia looked toward the ceiling.
“Of course.””
“What does that mean?””
“She twists things. She doesn't like rules.””
I felt something cold settle inside me.
“Tell me something, Patricia.””
“What?””
“Have you ever transferred money out of our joint account to a company called Westbridge Family Holdings?””
Her expression changed.
The warmth disappeared.
“Where did you hear that name?””
I didn't answer.
“Daniel?””
I watched her eyes.
She was no longer pretending to be confused.
She was calculating.
“It's a family investment company,” she finally said.
“Whose family?””
“Mine.””
“Why is my money going there?””
She exhaled sharply.
“We were going to discuss that.””
“When?””
“When the time was right.””
I almost laughed.
“Nearly $180,000, Patricia. When exactly would the time have been right?””
Her face turned pale.
“You went into my things?””
I remained silent.
She stepped closer.
“Daniel, that was private.””
“You were hiding financial documents in your closet.””
“You had no right to search my bedroom!””
I stared at her.
“It's my house.””
She laughed bitterly.
“Your house? That's what you think?””
Before I could respond, she walked toward the door.
I blocked her path.
“What's that supposed to mean?””
She looked at me.
For the first time, I saw something in her expression that I had never seen before.
Contempt.
“You think you know everything because you pay the bills.””
“I think I have the right to know where my money is going.””
“Your money?””
She shook her head.
“You have no idea what I've sacrificed for this family.””
I lowered my voice.
“Then explain the forged signature.””
Her face went completely still.
A long silence followed.
Then she whispered:
“Where did you find that?””
I didn't answer.
She stepped backward.
And for a brief moment, she looked genuinely afraid.
Then her expression hardened.
“Give me the documents.””
“No.””
“Daniel, don't make this worse.””
“Worse than what?””
She stared at me.
Then she said something that made every hair on my arms stand up.
“You should have stayed in Chicago.””
Before I could respond, the front door opened.
A man's voice came from the foyer.
“Patricia? Are you inside?””
I recognized that voice immediately.
Marcus Bell.
My financial adviser.
The man in the photograph.
Patricia looked toward the entrance.
Then she turned back to me.
Her lips parted.
“Daniel, please. Let me explain before he—”
Marcus entered the living room carrying a leather folder.
He stopped when he saw me.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then he forced a smile.
“Daniel. I wasn't expecting you.””
I looked at the folder.
“Funny. Nobody seems to expect me in my own house.””
Marcus adjusted his tie.
“I'm here on a business matter.””
“With my wife?””
Patricia closed her eyes.
Marcus glanced at her.
Then he placed the folder on the coffee table.
“Actually, Daniel, that's exactly what we need to discuss.””
I stared at him.
“What business matter?””
He opened the folder and removed a single document.
It was a property transfer agreement.
My property.
My signature.
And beneath it was a date scheduled for the following Monday.
I looked at Patricia.
Then at Marcus.
“What is this?””
Marcus swallowed.
“Your wife has already arranged the sale of your lakefront property.””
I felt my chest tighten.
“That property isn't for sale.””
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
“I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding.””
I picked up the document.
The buyer's name was listed at the bottom.
Westbridge Family Holdings.
I slowly raised my eyes.
“Who authorized this?””
Marcus didn't answer.
Patricia did.
“I did.””
The room went silent.
Then she stepped closer and spoke in a voice so quiet that only I could hear.
“Daniel, if you want to know why I did it, ask your daughter what she found in my bedroom last month.””
My stomach dropped.
I turned toward her.
“What did Sophia find?””
Patricia looked toward the staircase.
Then she smiled.
It wasn't the smile of a loving wife.
It was the smile of someone who believed she had already won.
“Something she was never supposed to see.””
From upstairs came a sudden crash.
Then Sophia screamed.
“DADDY!””
I ran toward the staircase.
But before I could reach the first step, Marcus grabbed my arm.
“Daniel, wait!””
I turned and shoved his hand away.
“What?””
His face had gone white.
He looked toward the ceiling.
Then he whispered:
“Whatever you do, don't let Patricia get to that bedroom before you.””
I stared at him.
“Why?””
Marcus swallowed.
“Because the thing she's hiding isn't just about the money.””
He glanced toward Patricia.
May you like
“It's about what happened to your first wife.””
And suddenly, the room seemed to lose all its air.
