Chapter 5: The Woman Who Came Before Me
I read the message until the words blurred.
That's his first wife.
Marcus had never mentioned a previous marriage.
Not once in four years.
I'd met his parents, attended family dinners, celebrated birthdays, and spent Christmas morning at his childhood home. I'd listened to his mother tell stories about his school days and watched his father toast the day Marcus announced he was ready to settle down.
Not one person had mentioned a wife.
I turned the phone toward my mother.
"Have you ever heard Marcus talk about being married before?""
She studied the photograph.
"No.""
"Do you recognize this woman?""
Mom shook her head.
"But look at her wrist.""
The bracelet.
My father's bracelet.
The woman wore it loosely, the silver clasp visible beneath the sleeve of her black dress.
I zoomed in on Marcus's face.
He wasn't looking at the camera.
He was looking at her.
His expression was different from the one I'd seen in our engagement photographs. Softer. Less practiced.
He looked like a man who trusted the person beside him.
A man who wasn't pretending.
My stomach twisted.
"Why would he hide a wife?""
Mom reached for my hand.
"There's only one way to find out.""
I called the number that had sent the photograph.
It rang twice.
A woman answered.
"Hello?""
"Who is this?""
"My name is Claire.""
I recognized the voice from the hotel.
"Claire, you sent me a photograph of Marcus with another woman. You said she was his first wife.""
"She was.""
"What's her name?""
"Olivia Grant.""
"Where is she now?""
"I don't know. Marcus told people she moved overseas after their marriage ended.""
"Did they get divorced?""
Claire hesitated.
"That's what everyone was told.""
My heart began to race.
"What does that mean?""
"It means I've never seen a divorce certificate. I've seen their marriage certificate. I know they were married because I helped Olivia pack her things when she left the city.""
"How do you know Marcus?""
"I used to work at the hotel where he stayed before he met you. Olivia was there often. She came to visit him, and eventually they got married.""
"Then why did you say he never intended to marry me?""
"Because I heard him telling Vanessa that the marriage was part of a plan. He said once you signed the final documents, he could claim the house and gain access to your father's estate.""
I pressed my free hand against the table.
"What did Vanessa get out of it?""
"Money. A lot of money, from what I heard. Marcus promised to pay her after the wedding.""
"For cutting my mother's hair?""
"That was part of it. He wanted your mother out of the photographs. He said she might recognize Olivia.""
I looked at Mom.
She was staring at the screen, her lips parted.
"Why would my mother recognize Olivia?""
"I don't know. But Marcus said your father had shown Olivia something before he died.""
I felt the room tilt.
"What?""
"That's all I heard.""
I took a breath.
"Claire, why are you helping me?""
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she answered quietly.
"Because I watched Olivia lose everything while people told her she was crazy. I believed Marcus when he said she'd become unstable. I helped him pack her belongings. I watched him give her a settlement agreement and tell her she'd be better off disappearing.""
My throat tightened.
"What happened to her?""
"I don't know. But the last time I saw her, she was crying in the hotel lobby. She said Marcus had taken something that belonged to her family.""
"The bracelet?""
"Possibly.""
I stared at the photograph again.
"Can you send me anything else you have?""
"I'll send you the hotel records and the recording from last night. But Nia, please be careful. Marcus knows you found the box, and he knows Richard has been trying to get it.""
The call ended.
A few seconds later, my phone received three files.
The first was a hotel registration record.
The second was a scanned marriage certificate.
The third was a photograph of a handwritten note.
I opened the marriage certificate first.
Marcus Hale.
Olivia Grant.
Date of marriage: four years earlier.
My knees weakened.
Four years earlier was the same year Marcus and I had started dating.
We'd met at a charity fundraiser in Chicago. He'd spilled coffee on my sleeve, apologized three times, and spent the rest of the evening making me laugh.
Two months later, he told me he'd never felt so comfortable with anyone.
He said he'd never been married.
I remembered asking him about his past relationships.
He'd smiled and said, "Nothing serious enough to matter.""
I had believed him.
The note was written in blue ink.
Marcus,
You promised me that if I helped you recover the documents, you'd leave her alone. You said Nia had nothing to do with what happened to David.
You lied.
I won't keep your secret anymore. If you want the bracelet back, you'll have to tell her the truth yourself.
The signature at the bottom read Olivia.
I read it again.
Then I looked at the date.
The note had been written six months before Marcus proposed to me.
I called Daniel.
He answered on the first ring.
"I need you to look at something.""
I sent him the marriage certificate, the note, and the photograph.
He called back within minutes.
"Nia, where did you get these?""
"From Claire, the hotel employee.""
"Have you verified the records?""
"No.""
"Then we need to establish their authenticity. But if this marriage certificate is genuine, it raises serious questions about Marcus's legal status when he proposed to you.""
"Can you find out whether they're divorced?""
"I'll investigate through the appropriate channels. Don't contact Marcus about this yet.""
I glanced at the clock.
It was nearly six in the evening.
My wedding should have been over by now. I should have been sitting in a hotel ballroom with Marcus's hand resting on my knee, listening to friends tell stories about our future.
Instead, I was sitting in my mother's kitchen, discovering that the man I'd nearly married might still be married to somebody else.
"Mr. Mercer," I said, "what happens if they're still legally married?""
"That depends on the jurisdiction and the circumstances. But I wouldn't assume the marriage was valid simply because a ceremony was planned. We need facts before conclusions.""
"Understood.""
"And Nia?""
"Yes?""
"If Marcus has been concealing an earlier marriage while seeking access to your property, preserve every message. Don't delete anything, and don't meet him alone.""
I ended the call and looked at Mom.
She had gone pale.
"Your father knew something about that woman," she whispered.
"Why do you think that?""
"Because a few months before he died, he received a phone call late at night. I remember hearing him say, 'Olivia, I told you to stay away from him.''"
I stared at her.
"You heard Dad say her name?""
She nodded.
"I asked him who Olivia was. He said she was somebody who needed help.""
My chest tightened.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because I forgot. It seemed like an ordinary phone call at the time.""
I reached across the table.
"Mom, Dad might have known her.""
"He did know her.""
She looked toward the window.
"And if Marcus married her, then perhaps he knew her too.""
The thought made my skin crawl.
What if Marcus hadn't met me by accident?
What if the charity fundraiser, the spilled coffee, the charming smile, and the whirlwind romance had all been carefully arranged?
I opened the hotel registration record.
It listed Marcus's room number, Olivia's name, and the dates they'd stayed at the property.
The final entry showed a checkout date that matched the day Marcus had told me he'd been visiting his sick uncle.
I'd been with him that week.
He'd kissed my forehead before leaving and promised to call every night.
He had called.
Every night.
While his wife was checking out of a hotel with a broken heart.
I put the phone down.
For a moment, I couldn't look at anything.
Then Mom spoke.
"Do you remember the first time Marcus came to this house?""
I nodded.
"He brought flowers.""
"White roses. He said he'd wanted to meet the woman who raised the girl he loved.""
She shook her head slowly.
"Your father used to bring me white roses. After he died, I couldn't bear to look at them.""
I remembered Marcus arriving with the bouquet, smiling as Mom thanked him.
He'd asked to see Dad's photographs.
He'd spent nearly an hour looking through them, asking questions about his business, his friends, and the places he'd traveled.
At the time, I'd thought it was sweet.
Now I remembered the way he'd lingered in Dad's office.
The questions he'd asked about the desk.
The way he'd noticed the locked drawer.
"Mom," I whispered, "I think Marcus came here looking for something.""
She covered her mouth.
I stood and went to the front door.
The porch was empty, but Richard's business card still lay on the floor.
I picked it up and turned it over.
On the back, someone had written a second phone number.
Underneath it were four words.
*Ask Olivia about the accident.*
I felt the blood drain from my face.
The accident.
My father's death.
I turned the card over again, checking the number.
Then I called it.
A woman answered after several rings.
"Who is this?""
"My name is Nia Bennett. I'm looking for Olivia Grant.""
Silence.
Then a sharp breath.
"Who gave you this number?""
"Richard Cole.""
The woman didn't answer immediately.
When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible.
"Did he tell you what happened to your father?""
"No.""
"Then you need to understand something before we speak.""
I gripped the phone.
"What?""
"Marcus didn't just lie about our marriage.""
Her voice broke.
"He was with your father the night he died.""
The line went dead.
I stood in the hallway, unable to move.
Behind me, Mom whispered my name.
I turned toward her.
She was staring at the front window.
The black SUV had returned.
This time, the driver had stepped out.
He was standing beneath the streetlight, holding something in his hand.
A small velvet box.
My father's bracelet was inside.
And beside it was a photograph of Marcus and Olivia standing in front of a courthouse.
May you like
On the back, written in red ink, were six words.
*One of them never left alive.*
