Chapter 3 - Lauren Thorne
Lauren came to the hospital at 2:16 that afternoon.
My father’s security team nearly threw her out.
She arrived wearing sunglasses, a camel coat, and the expression of someone who had spent the morning discovering that expensive lies were still lies.
“I need to see Clare.”
Aaron Cole blocked the corridor.
“No.”
“Tell her I have something about Matthew.”
“No.”
“Tell her it concerns the Hamptons house.”
I heard that from inside my room.
“Let her in.”
My father objected immediately.
“Clare.”
“I need to hear her.”
Lauren entered alone.
She removed her sunglasses.
Her eyes were red.
For months I had imagined her as something almost supernatural.
More beautiful than me.
More exciting.
More desirable.
The woman who had stolen my husband.
Standing beside my hospital bed, she looked ordinary.
Tired.
Scared.
Human.
Then I noticed the diamond bracelet on her wrist.
I recognized it.
Matthew had told me it was purchased for a NexusCore charity auction.
I almost laughed.
Lauren followed my eyes.
She removed it.
“I didn’t know.”
“Which part?”
Her face tightened.
“That he hurt you.”
“Only that?”
She flinched.
My mother left the room.
My father stayed.
Lauren looked at him.
“You’re Richard Sterling.”
“Yes.”
Fear passed through her expression.
Interesting.
“You knew who my father was?”
“Matthew told me six months ago.”
“He told me you didn’t know.”
“He lied.”
That sentence was going to become repetitive.
Lauren sat.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I knew he was married.”
“Also good.”
She swallowed.
“He told me the marriage was effectively over.”
“They always do.”
“I know how that sounds.”
“Then don’t say it.”
She looked down at her hands.
“I’m pregnant.”
The room disappeared around me.
I remembered the blue sock beneath Matthew’s passenger seat.
But Lauren saw my face and shook her head.
“No. That wasn’t mine.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“I’m four months pregnant.”
“The sock was infant-sized.”
She nodded.
“That’s why I’m here.”
My father stepped closer.
“Explain.”
Lauren opened her handbag.
Inside was a tablet.
She placed it on my blanket.
“There is another woman.”
I almost admired Matthew’s efficiency.
Lauren swiped through photographs.
Matthew.
A brunette woman.
A baby boy.
A house I recognized immediately from the property tax notice.
“The Hamptons house isn’t mine,” Lauren said.
“The tax notice had your name.”
“Because Matthew moved it into an LLC and made me the nominal manager.”
“Why?”
“I thought it was tax planning.”
My father made a sound that contained no amusement.
Lauren continued.
“The house belongs to an entity called Bellweather Property Holdings.”
“Who owns Bellweather?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re the manager.”
“I signed what he gave me.”
“So did I.”
That silenced us both.
She opened another image.
Bank statements.
Transfers.
Sable Meridian.
Bellweather.
Thorne Strategic Advisory.
Then a fourth company.
Larkwell Children’s Health Foundation.
My father leaned closer.
“That one.”
Lauren nodded.
“I found it this morning.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“It received seven million dollars from NexusCore.”
“And then transferred five-point-two million to Bellweather.”
My father took out his phone.
Lauren’s voice trembled.
“Matthew told me the Hamptons property was a company retreat.”
“Does the brunette live there?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“Rachel Dunn.”
My heart stopped.
I knew that name.
Rachel had worked at NexusCore six years earlier.
Investor relations.
Twenty-four years old.
Quiet.
Brilliant.
Then she vanished.
Matthew told everyone she had moved to California.
“Her baby?”
Lauren whispered,
“Matthew’s.”
The blue sock.
I closed my eyes.
Seven years of marriage.
One mistress sitting beside me.
Another hidden in a house financed with money siphoned from the company I helped create.
My father asked,
“How old is the child?”
“Nine months.”
I opened my eyes.
Lauren looked ashamed.
“I discovered them three weeks ago.”
“And you stayed with him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her hand moved to her stomach.
“Because by then I knew about the money.”
That made my father still.
Lauren continued.
“And because Matthew told me if I left, he would make sure federal investigators believed the shell companies were mine.”
There it was.
The first crack in her arrogance.
Not innocence.
But fear.
Matthew had not only collected women.
He collected leverage.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
Lauren looked directly at me.
“To make sure he doesn’t get to do this again.”
“After helping him?”
“Yes.”
“You spent eleven million dollars of company money.”
“I spent some of it.”
“How much?”
“About nine hundred thousand.”
My father raised an eyebrow.
Lauren’s face flushed.
“I know what that sounds like.”
“It sounds like nine hundred thousand dollars.”
“I’ll return it.”
“That isn’t how criminal exposure works.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“I’m willing to cooperate.”
I stared at the woman I had spent months hating.
Part of me wanted her humiliated.
Ruined.
Dragged through the same emotional wreckage she had helped create.
But another part understood something uglier.
Matthew had built a system around all of us.
He lied differently to each person.
Promised each of us a different future.
Then tied our fear to his survival.
My father said,
“If you are serious, you need your own attorney.”
Lauren nodded.
“I already called one.”
“Good.”
She stood.
Before leaving, she placed the diamond bracelet on the table.
“I don’t want this.”
I looked at it.
“Neither do I.”
She hesitated.
Then said,
“For what it’s worth…”
“No.”
She stopped.
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry.”
Her eyes lowered.
“Then what should I say?”
I thought about the cane.
The forged shares.
Rachel.
The baby.
The company.
“Tell the truth.”
Lauren nodded.
Then walked out.
My father picked up the tablet she had left behind.
“Clare.”
“Yes?”
“This is bigger than forty-eight million dollars.”
“How much bigger?”
He scrolled through the transfers.
His face hardened.
“I think Matthew has been preparing to move money out of NexusCore for years.”
“Why?”
“To sell the company?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
May you like
My father looked at me.
“To survive after destroying it.”
