Chapter 2
Blonde, beautiful, and dressed in black silk that probably cost more than most people earned in a month.
For six months, Caleb had insisted she was a business consultant helping him with a complicated corporate expansion.
I had believed him.
Or perhaps I had simply been afraid of what would happen if I stopped believing him.
Vanessa glanced at my stomach before giving me a small, satisfied smile.
“Oh, Eleanor,” she said.
“You look exhausted.”
Caleb squeezed her hand.
“She’s emotional,” he replied.
“Pregnancy and grief aren’t exactly a stable combination.”
Several mourners turned toward us.
I saw the confusion on their faces, followed by recognition.
Everyone understood what was happening.
My husband had brought another woman to my father’s funeral.
And he wanted everyone to know it.
“How could you?”
I whispered.
Caleb’s smile never changed.
“Keep your voice down.
Your father wouldn’t want a scene.”
“Don’t tell me what my father would want.”
His expression hardened.
“Then don’t make this difficult.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice so that only I could hear.
“After the service, you’re signing the estate release, the company proxy, and the prenup amendment.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Arthur Harlan can prepare whatever paperwork is necessary.
You’ll sign it, and I’ll handle the rest.”
Arthur Harlan was my father’s longtime attorney.
He had represented our family for twenty-seven years, and I had known him since I was a child.
“Those are my father’s affairs,” I said.
Caleb gave a quiet laugh.
“Your father is gone, Eleanor.”
His eyes moved toward the coffin.
“He was the only reason anyone in that company took you seriously.”
I felt as though someone had struck me.
“You planned this?”
“Of course I planned for the future.”
“The future?”
“Our future,” he said, glancing at Vanessa.
“Although I suppose that requires a little clarification now.”
Vanessa touched his sleeve.
“Caleb, darling, don’t upset her too much.”
Then she looked directly at me.
“Stress isn’t good for the baby.”
There was something almost playful in her voice.
Something cruel.
“Besides,” she continued, “there are ways to make this peaceful.”
I looked from her to my husband.
“What ways?”
Caleb’s smile disappeared.
“You’re not thinking clearly, Eleanor.
Everyone can see that.”
He let his gaze travel toward the mourners.
“You’re grieving, you’re heavily pregnant, and you’ve barely slept.
If you start making unreasonable financial decisions, someone may need to step in and help manage your affairs.”