Chapter 2 - “He Never Fired Me”Rebecca closed the bedroom door.
She didn't want Oliver hearing what came next.
Her hands were surprisingly steady.
That frightened her.
She had always imagined that if she discovered Graham cheating, she would scream.
Throw something.
Demand names, dates, details.
Instead she felt cold.
Almost detached.
Like someone had opened a wall inside her home and revealed another house hidden behind it.
Brooke stood near the closet.
Graham moved toward the bedroom door.
Rebecca blocked him.
“No one leaves.”
He stared.
“I'm not being interrogated in my own bedroom.”
Rebecca almost smiled.
“Your bedroom?”
The mansion had belonged to Rebecca's father.
Graham had moved into it after their wedding eight years earlier.
He knew that.
She watched the insult land.
“Fine,” he said. “Our bedroom.”
Brooke wiped her eyes.
“I should go.”
Rebecca looked at her.
“No.”
“Mrs. Caldwell—”
“Rebecca.”
Brooke hesitated.
“Rebecca.”
“You said he never fired you.”
“No.”
“Oliver said Graham told him you were fired today.”
Brooke nodded.
“He told the whole staff.”
Rebecca looked at her husband.
“Why?”
Graham crossed his arms.
“Because she was being dismissed.”
Brooke's head snapped toward him.
“You told me to come back at two.”
“To collect your things.”
“You told me to use the service entrance.”
Rebecca looked between them.
Brooke continued.
“You told me no one could see me.”
Graham's voice sharpened.
“Stop.”
“No.”
Brooke suddenly seemed less like a frightened employee and more like someone who had spent months swallowing words.
“You promised this was the last time.”
Rebecca's stomach turned.
“The last time for what?”
Brooke looked ashamed.
Graham answered first.
“The affair.”
Rebecca stared at him.
He had finally admitted it.
No dramatic confession.
No apology.
Just a word.
Affair.
Eight years of marriage collapsed into six letters.
“How long?”
Graham didn't answer.
Brooke did.
“Seven months.”
Rebecca closed her eyes briefly.
Seven months.
Christmas.
Oliver's birthday.
Their anniversary.
Rebecca's mother's memorial dinner.
All inside seven months.
“Where?”
“Rebecca,” Graham said.
She opened her eyes.
“I'm not asking you.”
Brooke looked at the bed.
Rebecca felt sick.
“Here?”
Brooke nodded.
“Other places too.”
Graham looked away.
Rebecca's voice became quiet.
“Did he tell you he loved you?”
Brooke swallowed.
“Yes.”
Graham immediately said:
“I was confused.”
Brooke laughed.
“You weren't confused when you asked me to look through her father's study.”
Rebecca turned.
“What?”
Graham's face changed.
Brooke saw it and continued.
“You weren't confused when you gave me the key.”
“What study?”
Rebecca already knew.
Her father's office occupied the west side of the mansion.
She hadn't changed it since his death four years earlier.
Most of his papers had been moved to attorneys and corporate archives, but Rebecca kept the room almost untouched.
Graham rarely went inside.
Or so she believed.
“Brooke.”
Graham's tone was dangerous now.
She stepped away from him.
“You told me you needed one document.”
Rebecca looked at her husband.
“What document?”
“Nothing.”
Brooke shook her head.
“It wasn't nothing.”
“What?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“Describe it.”
“A blue folder.”
Rebecca felt something tighten in her chest.
Her father's private estate files used blue archival folders.
“Why were you looking for it?”
Graham interrupted.
“I asked her to retrieve an old insurance document.”
“From a locked room?”
“You never use it.”
“That isn't an answer.”
He sighed.
“We had a leak last year. I wanted to verify coverage on some antiques.”
Rebecca stared.
“Insurance documents are in the office downstairs.”
Silence.
Graham had forgotten.
Rebecca handled the household insurance herself.
Brooke whispered:
“He didn't want insurance.”
Graham turned.
“You have no idea what I wanted.”
“I know what you said.”
“What did he say?” Rebecca asked.
Brooke hesitated.
“He said your father had hidden something that legally belonged to Graham.”
Rebecca laughed once.
“Nothing my father owned legally belonged to Graham.”
“I know.”
Graham stepped forward.
“You don't know anything about my relationship with Arthur.”
Rebecca looked at him.
“My father didn't trust you.”
“That isn't true.”
“He demanded a prenup.”
“He demanded one from everyone who married into the family.”
“He updated it six months before he died.”
Graham's face changed slightly.
Rebecca caught it.
That was new.
“You knew.”
He recovered.
“Knew what?”
“That Dad changed something.”
“I knew he reviewed his estate.”
“How?”
Graham looked away.
Brooke answered again.
“He told me.”
Rebecca stared at her husband.
Brooke continued.
“He said your father made a mistake before he died.”
“What mistake?”
“He said he changed the family trust.”
Graham closed his eyes.
“Brooke, shut up.”
Rebecca looked sharply at him.
Then at Brooke.
“Keep talking.”
Brooke's breathing shook.
“He said there was an original document somewhere in the house.”
“What document?”
“I never saw it.”
“What did he tell you it did?”
Brooke looked at Graham.
For the first time, he looked less angry than frightened.
She turned back to Rebecca.
“He said if you found it before he did…”
She paused.
“…you'd leave him.”
Rebecca's pulse jumped.
“That doesn't make sense.”
Brooke's voice lowered.
“He wasn't afraid you'd leave because of me.”
Graham stepped toward her.
“Enough.”
Rebecca moved between them.
“Because of what?”
Brooke looked directly into her eyes.
“Because of the money.”
Rebecca froze.
“What money?”
Graham answered too fast.
“She doesn't know what she's talking about.”
Brooke reached into the front pocket of her apron.
Graham's face went white.
“Don't.”
She pulled out a small brass key.
Rebecca recognized it.
It belonged to the locked cabinet behind her father's desk.
She hadn't seen it in years.
Brooke held it toward her.
“Ask him why he gave me this.”
Rebecca took the key.
Cold metal against her palm.
Her father had once told her:
If anything ever happens to me, don't let anyone open that cabinet until you're ready to know who they are.
At the time, she thought it was one of Arthur's dramatic business sayings.
Now Graham stared at the key like it was a weapon.
Rebecca closed her fingers around it.
May you like
Then Brooke said:
“And ask him why he offered me fifty thousand dollars to burn whatever was inside.”
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