Chapter 10 - The Affair That Never HappenedCaleb Mercer had been Quentin’s closest friend since boarding school.
Not his attorney Caleb Monroe—no, wait. We already named attorney Caleb Monroe. Need not conflict. Let's use best friend "Adrian Wells." We need fix this chapter by introducing Adrian. Good.
The man Graham planned to use was Adrian Wells.
Quentin’s closest friend since college.
Married.
Two children.
Godfather to Emmett.
Quentin stared at Detective Torres.
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Adrian and Nora barely spent time alone.”
“That may be why they chose him.”
A false affair needed plausibility.
Not proof.
Adrian was attractive.
Close to the family.
At the mansion often.
If someone produced photographs of Nora and Adrian talking privately, then paired them with fake DNA results—
people would fill in the rest.
The deleted video showed Bernadette and Graham inside the East Room.
Nora had apparently hidden her red phone on a shelf.
Graham stood beside the desk.
“We don’t need Quentin to believe it forever.”
Bernadette answered:
“Long enough.”
“Exactly.”
“Adrian?”
“Best option.”
Bernadette smiled.
“Quentin loves him.”
“That’s why it works.”
Quentin felt sick.
Graham continued:
“Photographs first. Then the lab reports.”
“And if Nora tells him?”
“Quentin already thinks she’s overwhelmed.”
The sentence cut.
Graham had noticed the cracks in their marriage.
Then weaponized them.
Bernadette said:
“He always chooses work when she gets emotional.”
Quentin stopped the video.
He stood and walked away.
Caleb—his attorney—remained silent.
There were moments when sympathy became an insult.
Quentin returned after several minutes.
“Continue.”
The recording resumed.
Graham explained the legal strategy.
Raise paternity concerns.
Demand independent testing.
Petition to temporarily suspend the children’s beneficiary rights until resolved.
As senior family trustee, Graham would receive emergency voting authority.
In that window, he could refinance Ashford Development assets.
Move enough money to cover Briar Holdings theft.
Then restore the children once the “confusion” resolved.
Bernadette asked:
“And Elliot?”
Graham:
“He gets what Henry should have given him.”
Bernadette:
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Quentin almost laughed.
Graham had never intended fairness.
He had given Bernadette a story.
Her son robbed.
Quentin’s sons undeserving.
Nora unfaithful.
Graham the man willing to correct history.
Resentment made Bernadette useful.
Then Nora stepped into frame.
She had been listening.
Graham froze.
Bernadette’s face changed.
Nora said:
“You two are insane.”
That was the moment she knew everything.
The video ended shortly afterward.
Quentin called Adrian.
“Can you come over?”
Adrian heard his voice.
“What happened?”
“Just come.”
Forty minutes later, Adrian entered the library.
He hugged Quentin, then saw the documents.
“What is this?”
Quentin showed him the recording.
Adrian watched.
His face went from confusion to anger.
“They were going to say I slept with Nora?”
“Yes.”
“That Emmett and Silas…”
“Yes.”
Adrian stood.
“Jesus Christ.”
Quentin looked at him.
“Did Nora ever talk to you about Graham?”
Adrian hesitated.
Quentin noticed.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“About a month before she died.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“She asked me not to.”
Quentin felt anger rise.
“What did she say?”
“That she thought Graham was stealing.”
“And?”
“That Bernadette was watching her.”
“You believed her.”
“Yes.”
Quentin stood.
“And you said nothing.”
“She told me she wanted proof before dragging you into another fight.”
“Another fight.”
Adrian winced.
“Bad wording.”
“No. Accurate.”
Quentin turned away.
Nora had gone to other people because she no longer believed her husband would listen.
That humiliation belonged to him.
Adrian continued.
“She also asked me something strange.”
“What?”
“If I would take Emmett and Silas for a few days if she needed to leave quickly.”
Quentin turned.
“What did you say?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say why?”
“No.”
“Did she mention the affair rumor?”
“No.”
“Did you ever touch her?”
Adrian looked shocked.
“No.”
“Even kiss?”
“No.”
“I have to ask.”
“I know.”
Adrian sat.
“There’s something else.”
Quentin waited.
“The night she died, she called me.”
His chest tightened.
“When?”
“9:41.”
Eleven minutes before the East Room door opened.
“What did she say?”
“I didn’t answer.”
Quentin stared.
“I was putting my daughter to bed.”
“Did she leave voicemail?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still have it?”
Adrian’s face filled with shame.
“I deleted it months ago.”
Quentin closed his eyes.
“Do you remember?”
“Some.”
“What?”
“She said, ‘I finally have it.’”
“Have what?”
“She didn’t say.”
“Anything else?”
Adrian swallowed.
“She said if Quentin still doesn’t believe me after tonight, I’m done trying.”
Quentin looked down.
There it was again.
Nora had been reaching outward because the person she wanted most had been unavailable.
Adrian continued.
“I called back at ten-thirty.”
By then 911 had been called.
Bernadette answered Nora’s phone.
“What did she tell you?”
“That Nora had fallen.”
“Anything else?”
Adrian hesitated.
“She asked why Nora called me.”
Quentin looked up.
“What did you say?”
“That I didn’t know.”
Bernadette must have realized Nora had an outside confidant.
The fake affair plan suddenly became useful in another way.
After Nora died, Bernadette began quietly telling staff that Nora and Adrian had been “too close.”
Quentin remembered comments.
Tiny.
Carefully delivered.
Nora had been emotionally confused.
Adrian seemed devastated.
Maybe grief wasn’t the only thing.
Quentin had rejected the insinuations.
Thank God.
But he had not asked why Bernadette was making them.
Detective Torres later recovered Adrian’s deleted voicemail from a cloud backup.
Nora’s voice:
“Adrian, call me. I finally have it. The original ledger, the real DNA results, everything.”
A breath.
“Graham is coming over.”
Then:
“If something happens, tell Quentin the copies aren’t all in the house.”
Quentin sat forward.
“Where are they?”
The voicemail continued.
“I sent one set to Vivian.”
Adrian looked confused.
“Who’s Vivian?”
Quentin knew.
Vivian Shaw.
Nora’s college roommate.
Forensic accountant.
The woman Nora planned to meet the day after she died.
Nobody had contacted her after the death because nobody knew she was involved.
Quentin called.
A woman answered.
“Hello?”
“Vivian Shaw?”
“Yes.”
“This is Quentin Ashford.”
Silence.
Then:
“I’ve been waiting almost a year for you to call.”
Quentin’s stomach dropped.
“You knew?”
“I knew enough.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
May you like
Vivian’s answer was devastating.
“Because Nora told me you were the one person she wasn’t sure she could trust to believe her.”
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