Chapter 15 Who Is She
I watch as she enters into the building.
Heading up.
Heading here.
Every instinct I have is screaming at me to move, to do something, but I'm frozen at the window.
Who is this woman? Why is she here? And more importantly, why does she have access to Caius's private garage?
The questions spiral through my mind.
Maybe she's a business associate. But what kind of business associate shows up at six-thirty in the morning unannounced? Maybe she's family. But Caius never mentioned his sister coming, and his mother is already here somewhere in this massive penthouse.
I move away from the window. I look around frantically, my mind racing through options.
Do I get dressed? Do I throw on real clothes instead of this oversized t-shirt I slept in? Do I fix my hair? Wash my face? Put on makeup? Try to make myself look presentable and put-together?
Or do I pretend to be asleep? Stay in my room and act like I never saw her arrive, never knew she was here at all?
Or do I go out there and confront whoever this is? Assert myself as the lady of the house, even though I've only been here two days?
I'm still standing in the middle of my room, paralyzed by indecision, when I hear it the door open.
"Hello?" A melodious female voice calls out. "Caius? Are you home?"
Caius.
She's calling for Caius.
Using his first name. With so much familiarity. It’s not the way a business partner speaks. It’s the way a lover speaks.
My heart is racing now.
I should go out there. I know I should. I'm supposed to be his wife. This is supposed to be my home now. I should march out there with confidence and introduce myself and establish that I belong here.
But my feet won't move.
Because what if she knows? What if she's here because she somehow found out that this marriage is fake? Or someone Catherine hired to dig up the dirt on my past? If I walk out there, am I walking into a trap?
"Oh!" The woman's voice again, surprised. "Hello there, little one. You must be Leonard."
Leo.
Blood drains from my face.
She's talking to Leo.
That gets me moving.
I throw open my bedroom door, probably harder than necessary and hurry down the hallway. I probably look like a mess right now, but I don't care.
When I round the corner into the living room, I freeze.
The woman is crouched down in front of Leo, who's standing in his dinosaur pajamas, hair sticking up, clutching his toy car.
He looks small. Vulnerable.
And this stranger is reaching toward him.
"I'm Vanessa," she's saying to him, her voice gentle. "I'm a friend of your Uncle Caius. We've known each other for a very, very long time."
She reaches out as if to ruffle his hair.
"Don't touch him."
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.
The woman, Vanessa looks up, startled.
When she sees me, her expression changes to surprise first. Then slowly, it turns into something that might be amusement.
She stands slowly and gracefully.
Up close, she's even more beautiful than she looked from the window.
And she's looking at me like I'm a bug.
"And you are?" she asks, her voice still friendly but with an edge now.
I'm very aware that I'm standing here in an oversized t-shirt and bare feet, my hair a mess, no makeup, probably with sleep creases on my face.
While she looks like she just stepped out of a photoshoot.
I feel small. Inferior. Out of place in this penthouse that's supposed to be my home.
But I force myself to lift my chin and meet her eyes.
"I'm Lia," I say, lifting my chin. "Who are you?"
"I just said it." She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Vanessa. Vanessa Whitmore."
The name doesn't mean anything to me.
Should it? Should I know who she is? Is she famous? Is she someone important in Caius's world?
Or is she just trying to make me feel stupid?
My mind races. This could be a test. Catherine could have sent her. The court could be investigating our marriage already, sending people to verify that it's real, looking for cracks in our story.
I can't afford to be careless. Can't afford to say the wrong thing.
"And what are you doing here?" I ask carefully.
Her smile widens, and it still doesn't reach her eyes.
"I'm here to see Caius, of course." She looks around the penthouse slowly. Her gaze moves over the furniture, the artwork on the walls. "Is he still sleeping? He always was terrible about waking up early. I used to have to practically drag him out of bed."
The intimacy in her words makes my stomach clench.
"He's not here," I say. "He's in Boston. For business."
"Boston?" Her eyebrows rise. "He didn't mention he was traveling."
"Why would he mention it to you?" I blurt.
Vanessa's smile turns into something more genuine. Like she's enjoying this.
"Because," she says slowly, "We're very close."
She takes a step toward me.
"So I'll ask again," she says. "Who are you? The new nanny? The housekeeper? I know Caius has been cycling through caregivers for Leonard. Is that what you are? The latest attempt?"
Heat floods my face.
"I'm not the nanny," I say.
"Then what are you?"
I glance at Leo. He's watching this exchange with those big, dark eyes that seem to see everything. I don't want to do this in front of him. Don't want him to hear whatever is about to happen.
But I don't have a choice.
I can't let her win. I can't let her walk into this home and treat me like the help.
Because I do belong here.
I'm Caius's wife.
Even if it's just a business arrangement.
I'm still his wife.
"I'm Lia. His wife," I say clearly.
Vanessa's smile freezes on her face.
For a long moment, she just stares at me.
Then she laughs.
"His wife," she repeats, as if I've just told the funniest joke she's ever heard. "That's adorable. Did he tell you to say that? Or is this some little fantasy you’ve cooked up?"
"It's true," I say. "I am his wife."
I hold up my left hand, showing her the ring.
Vanessa's laughter cuts off abruptly.
She stares at the ring. At my hand.
All the color drains from her face.
For the first time since she walked in here, she looks genuinely shocked. Genuinely caught off guard.
"When?" Her voice has lost all its warmth, all its musicality. Now it's cold. "When did this happen?"
"Two weeks ago," I say, reciting the timeline we agreed on.
"Two weeks." She says it slowly like she's trying to make them make sense. "You're telling me that Caius got married two weeks ago."
"Yes."
"To you."
"Yes."
She takes a step closer. Then another. Now she's so close I could reach out and touch her.
I force myself not to step back. Not to show weakness.
"That's fascinating," she says softly. "Really, really fascinating."
"What do you mean?" I ask, even though part of me doesn't want to know the answer.
Instead of responding, Vanessa reaches into the expensive leather bag hanging from her shoulder. Her fingers move slowly as she pulls out her phone.
My heart starts to pound again.
She taps the screen a few times, her nails clicking against the glass. Then she turns the phone toward me.
I don't want to look. Every instinct I have is screaming at me not to look.
But I can't help it.
My eyes drop to the screen.
It's a photo.
Of Caius and Vanessa.
They're at a restaurant, somewhere upscale based on the white tablecloths and wine glasses. Caius is wearing a suit. Vanessa is in a black dress.
They're sitting close. His hand is wrapped firmly around her waist. She's leaning toward him, laughing at something he said. He's looking at her with an expression I've never seen on his face before.
He looks... happy. Like he's somewhere he wants to be.
My throat closes up. I can't breathe. What's going on?
"Can you see that?" Vanessa asks, her voice dripping with venom. "So tell me little girl, who's the wife now?"
My body goes cold.