Chapter 6: The Gala Invitation Was a Trap
Dr. Bennett locked the clinic door.
"Vivian, stay here," she said.
A security officer stood outside the consultation room while she contacted the police.
I stared at the photograph on my phone.
Dr. Hales was standing outside my apartment with an envelope.
Why?
What did he want?
And why had he come looking for me after I discovered the medical records?
My phone rang.
Gideon.
"Vivian, where are you?""
"At Dr. Bennett's clinic.""
"Good. Security is on the way. Don't approach Hales.""
"He's outside my apartment.""
"I know. Our team identified his vehicle entering your neighborhood. We also have the message you received.""
I swallowed.
"What is in the envelope?""
"We don't know.""
I looked through the clinic's glass wall.
A receptionist was speaking to a uniformed officer.
"Do you think he's coming here?""
"That's why I want you to stay inside.""
There was a pause.
Then Gideon said something unexpected.
"Vivian, the gala is still happening tomorrow night.""
I frowned.
"Why are we discussing the gala?""
"Because Preston believes the promotion announcement will give him control over a major division of the company.""
"After everything you've discovered?""
"He's still unaware of how much evidence we've recovered. The board wants him to attend so we can formally suspend his authority and question him in the presence of the appropriate witnesses.""
I looked down at my hands.
"And Cassidy?""
"She's on the guest list. So is Dr. Hales.""
I felt my stomach tighten.
"They're all going to be there.""
"Yes.""
I thought about the invitation.
The backless dress requirement.
The humiliation Cassidy had planned.
The way Preston had laughed when he imagined me staying home.
Then I remembered something else.
For five years, I had allowed other people to decide what my body meant.
Preston had called my scars disgusting.
Dr. Hales had apparently decided I didn't deserve further treatment.
Cassidy had turned my injuries into entertainment.
I slowly lifted my eyes.
"I'm going to the gala.""
Gideon was quiet.
"Vivian, this isn't about revenge.""
"I know.""
"You don't have to prove anything by exposing your scars.""
"I'm not going because of them.""
I looked at my reflection in the dark clinic window.
"I'm going because I'm done hiding.""
The next afternoon, I visited a boutique in Manhattan.
The sales assistant greeted me with a polite smile.
"Are you looking for something specific?""
"An evening gown.""
"Do you have a particular style in mind?""
"Emerald green. Elegant. Backless.""
She brought several dresses.
I chose one with a flowing skirt, delicate straps, and a low open back.
When I stepped out of the fitting room, I caught sight of my reflection.
The scars were visible.
Every uneven line.
Every patch of grafted skin.
I stood still.
For a moment, I was back in the hospital, staring at my body beneath fluorescent lights.
Then I remembered the woman I'd been before the fire.
She had laughed loudly.
She had danced barefoot in the kitchen.
She had believed that saving the person she loved meant he would love her forever.
I touched the fabric near my shoulder.
"How does it look?"" the sales assistant asked gently.
I smiled.
"Like me.""
I purchased the dress.
At seven that evening, Preston came home carrying a bouquet of white roses.
He placed them on the dining table.
"For you.""
I stared at the flowers.
"What happened?""
He frowned.
"Can't I buy my wife flowers?""
"Not usually without a reason.""
He loosened his tie.
"Look, Vivian. I know things have been tense.""
He approached me.
"Tomorrow is important for my career. I don't want us fighting.""
I said nothing.
He reached for my hand.
"Come to the gala. Wear something beautiful. We'll make an appearance together.""
I almost laughed.
Yesterday, he had told me nobody wanted to see my body.
Today, he wanted me beside him.
"Has Cassidy approved?""
His smile disappeared.
"Don't bring her into this.""
"Why? Isn't she organizing the event?""
"She's an employee.""
"And the mother of your child.""
Preston stepped back.
"You're being cruel.""
I stared at him.
"Do you know what's cruel? Telling a woman her scars make her disgusting after she nearly died saving you.""
He rubbed his forehead.
"Can we please have one normal conversation?""
"Sure. Where did the $2.8 million go?""
His expression hardened.
"You're obsessed.""
"Where did it go, Preston?""
He grabbed the roses and threw them into the trash.
"Fine. You want the truth? I spent it. I had every right to use that money because I was the one who had to rebuild my life after the accident.""
I stared at him.
"You were never injured.""
He leaned closer.
"I lost five years too.""
I stepped away.
"Then perhaps you should have spent those five years becoming a better man.""
His phone rang.
Cassidy.
He answered immediately.
"What's wrong?""
I could hear her voice.
"Did you tell her about tomorrow?""
Preston glanced at me.
"Not yet.""
"Make sure she comes. I want everyone to see her.""
He lowered his voice.
"She might not.""
Cassidy laughed.
"She'll come. She needs to see that her place in your life is over.""
Preston ended the call.
I looked at him.
"She really believes she's won.""
He said nothing.
I walked into the bedroom and closed the door.
An hour later, I received an email from Gideon.
The subject line read:
*FINAL DOCUMENT — ORIGINAL FIRE INVESTIGATION.*
I opened the attachment.
It was a scanned agreement recovered from an encrypted company archive.
The document listed several parties involved in the original insurance arrangement.
Preston Whitmore.
Martin Hales.
And Cassidy Vaughn.
My eyes moved down the page.
Cassidy had worked for a small public relations contractor before joining Ashford Global.
But the agreement revealed something far more disturbing.
She had been listed as the beneficiary of a private payment arrangement connected to Preston's insurance claim.
The amount was $300,000.
I read the document twice.
Then I noticed the date.
It had been signed six days before the fire.
My phone rang.
Gideon.
"Did you receive the document?""
"Yes.""
"There's something else. Our investigators traced the original consulting company. It was incorporated under a different name.""
"What name?""
"Vaughn Medical Holdings.""
I went completely still.
"Vaughn?""
"Yes. Cassidy's family.""
I looked back at the agreement.
The woman who had laughed at my scars had been connected to the financial arrangement before the fire even happened.
"Why would she be involved?""
"We're still investigating.""
I swallowed.
"Gideon, I need to ask you something.""
"Go ahead.""
"Why did you really invite me to the gala?""
He was silent for a moment.
Then he answered.
"Because tomorrow night, Preston will be expecting a promotion.""
I waited.
"And instead, Vivian, he's going to discover that the woman he spent five years trying to silence is the only person who can expose the entire scheme.""
I looked at the emerald gown hanging beside my bedroom mirror.
Then my phone buzzed again.
A message from Cassidy.
*Cassidy: I heard you're actually coming tomorrow. Please don't make a scene. Some of us have reputations to protect.*
I typed a reply.
*Vivian: Don't worry. I'll let the truth make the scene.*
Her response came immediately.
*Cassidy: Enjoy your last night pretending you're still his wife.*
I put the phone down.
Then I noticed another notification.
An email from an address I didn't recognize.
There was no greeting.
No explanation.
Only one attached photograph.
It showed Preston standing outside the burning building five years earlier.
He wasn't running toward the firefighters.
He wasn't calling for help.
He was standing beside a black car, holding the same metal case I remembered from that night.
And beside him was a woman.
A woman whose face was partially visible.
I enlarged the photograph.
My breath caught.
It wasn't Cassidy.
It wasn't Dr. Hales.
It was my own mother.
The email contained one final sentence.
Ask your mother why she helped your husband leave you inside that building.
I dropped the phone.
May you like
Because my mother had told me for five years that she'd been overseas when the fire happened.
And tomorrow night, I was about to discover how many people I had trusted had been lying to me.
