I tried again. “Can I trust Mara?”
After several seconds, his finger tapped once against the sheet.
Yes.
I released a shaky breath.
“Can I trust Vivian?”
No movement.
“Ethan, I don’t know what that means.”
His brow tightened faintly, as though pain moved behind his closed eyes.
I lowered my voice. “Did Jason cause your accident?”
The monitor gave one quiet beep.
His hand did not move.
But a tear slipped from the corner of his closed eye.
That was when I understood that some answers were too heavy for a single movement.
The next morning, Vivian summoned me to the garden room.
It was a glass-walled space filled with lemon trees and winter roses. Sunlight spilled across the tiled floor in golden squares. Vivian sat at a small table, reading documents through narrow gold-framed glasses.
She did not invite me to sit.
“I assume Jason has introduced himself properly,” she said.
“He has introduced himself.”
“That is rarely the same thing.”
I remained standing. “Why did you choose me?”
Vivian looked up.
The directness of the question seemed to please her more than politeness would have.
“Your father owed money to people who would eventually become inconvenient. You were unmarried, educated enough to understand discretion, and desperate enough to agree.”
I flinched despite myself.
Vivian’s gaze did not soften.
“You asked for the truth, Mrs. Thornton. I recommend not resenting it when it arrives.”
“Did my father come to you?”
“No. I found him.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“You found him?”
“Ethan’s birthday was approaching. The trust required a spouse. I needed someone who was not already tied to Jason, not ambitious enough to be bought by him, and not foolish enough to think this was a fairy tale.”
“And you decided that was me?”
“I investigated several candidates.”
The word candidates made my stomach turn.
“You talk about marriage like hiring staff.”
“In this family, both require references.”
I stared at her. “You used my father’s debts to trap me.”
Vivian removed her glasses.
“Yes.”
