Chapter 43
Rowan's POV
I sat behind my desk, fingers tapping against the polished wood, staring at the documents spread before me without reading a single word.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, Silverton's skyline stretched across the afternoon horizon. Sunlight poured through the glass, but I felt none of its warmth.
What kept replaying in my mind was the image of Lena walking away last night—her back straight, her movements calm, her resolve absolute.
She said she didn't need my help.
She said we'd be done soon.
She said it so evenly, as if these two years of marriage were nothing more than an expiring business contract—something to be filed away, sealed, and forgotten.
Maybe that's exactly what it was to her.
I took a deep breath, trying to pull my focus back to the acquisition report in front of me. That's when someone knocked on my door.
"Come in."
Jack entered, carrying a manila folder. His expression was more serious than usual, his brow slightly furrowed.
"The report you requested," he said, setting the folder on my desk. "About Lena Grant's childhood."
I straightened immediately and opened the folder.
"Go ahead."
Jack paused, as if gathering his thoughts.
"I contacted several people," he began. "Lena's childhood piano teacher, a few former staff members who worked at the Grant household. Most of them wouldn't say much. Some refused to answer at all."
"Refused?" I looked up. "Why?"
"NDAs," Jack explained. "Vivian Grant included clauses in their employment contracts prohibiting them from disclosing anything about the family. The penalties for violating those agreements are steep."
My fingers tightened. My knuckles went white.
"But," Jack continued, "one person was willing to talk."
"Who?"
"A woman named Kathy. She was Lena's nanny. Worked for the Grants from the time Lena was born until she turned twelve. Got fired for talking back to Vivian."
I leaned back in my chair and gestured for him to continue.
Jack opened the folder and pointed to a printed transcript.
"Kathy said Lena was hit frequently as a child," he said quietly. "Mostly by Marcus. Sometimes because she didn't play piano well enough. Sometimes because she said the wrong thing at dinner. Sometimes... for no reason at all."
Something slammed into my chest.
"What about Vivian?" I asked, my voice colder than I'd intended.
"Vivian never laid a hand on her," Jack said. "But she never stopped it either. Kathy said Vivian would stand there and watch. Then, after Marcus was done, she'd have Kathy take Lena back to her room."
I closed my eyes and took a slow breath.
An image surfaced—Lena at the dinner table, always sitting perfectly straight, barely speaking during meals, every movement controlled as if rehearsed a thousand times.
The way she smiled around my mother, genuine and unguarded.
The way she tensed around Vivian, careful and compliant.
The contrast had always been there. I just never looked closely enough.
"What else did Kathy say?" I asked.
"She said Lena rarely cried," Jack flipped to the next page. "Even when the beatings were bad, she'd just bite her lip and take it. Kathy asked her once if it hurt. Lena said, 'Crying makes it worse.'"
My hand curled into a fist.
"Why was Kathy fired?"
"Because she tried to stop Marcus," Jack said. "One night he got drunk and went after Lena in the living room. Kathy stepped between them. Got fired on the spot. Vivian gave her a large severance payment and made her sign an NDA before leaving Silverton."
"But she told you anyway."
"She said she's carried guilt ever since," Jack's voice softened. "Said if she'd been braver back then, maybe Lena wouldn't have had to endure what came after."
I didn't speak for a long time.
The only sound in the office was the ticking of the wall clock.
"What about the others?" I finally asked. "The piano teacher, the other staff—they really won't say anything?"
"Not exactly," Jack said. "A few of them didn't say it outright, but their reactions... they know something. One of the housekeepers' face went pale the moment I mentioned Lena's name."
I stared at the contents of the folder, a nameless fury rising in my chest.
Not directed at Jack.
Not at the staff.
At myself.
For two years, Lena and I lived under the same roof. Slept in the same bed. Shared... so many intimate moments.
But I never truly knew her.
I never asked what her childhood was like.
I never wondered if her restraint, her compliance, her careful composure weren't personality traits but survival instincts.
"Anything else?" I asked.
Jack hesitated. "Kathy said there was a period when Lena got dangerously thin. Thin enough that teachers noticed. But Vivian's explanation to outsiders was that Lena was dieting to maintain her figure."
"And the truth?"
"The truth is Marcus often withheld dinner as punishment," Jack's tone carried clear anger. "Kathy said she'd sneak food to Lena a few times. When Vivian found out, she didn't blame Marcus. She warned Kathy not to 'interfere with discipline.'"
I stood abruptly. The chair scraped harshly against the floor.
I walked to the windows, hands in my pockets, staring out at the city.
"You think the real situation was worse than this, don't you?" I asked.
Jack was quiet for a moment. "Yes. The ones who wouldn't talk... their reactions were too extreme. If it were just ordinary family conflict, they wouldn't be this afraid."
I nodded and pulled out my phone, dialing Colin's number.
"Rowan?" Colin's voice came through. "What's up?"
"I need you to track someone down," I said. "Marcus Grant. I want to know where he is, who he's with, what he's doing. Everything."
"Marcus?" Colin paused. "What are you planning?"
"I'm making sure he doesn't get another chance to hurt Lena."
The line went quiet for a few seconds.
"Understood," Colin said. "Give me two hours."
I hung up and sat back down at my desk, staring at the words in the folder.
An image surfaced—Lena standing in front of me last night, calmly refusing my help, not a flicker of doubt in her eyes.
She said she didn't need me.
She said she could handle everything herself.
But I understood now.
She said those things not because she didn't need help.
But because no one had ever truly helped her.
She'd learned to face everything alone.
She'd learned to bury all her pain.
She'd learned to stay calm and controlled no matter what.
And me?
What had I done these past two years?
I'd treated her like a transaction. A contract wife. A role that could be replaced at any time.
I didn't know where Lena was right now.
Didn't know if she was already working on her new firm.
But I knew one thing.
I couldn't stand on the sidelines anymore.