The Favor He Owed Me

PART 2 — THE TRUTH HE HID

“Claire? Are you still there?”

Vincent’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I took a deep breath.

“Whatever you have to say, Vincent, it can wait.”

“No. It can’t.”

“Then say it.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Sophia didn’t come back because she wanted to marry me.”

I frowned.

“What are you talking about?”

“She came back because she needed something. Something she believed belonged to her.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No. But you deserve to know the truth.”

I glanced at the clock. It was almost ten at night.

“Vincent, we are divorced. Whatever happened between you and Sophia is no longer my problem.”

“Claire, please. Just meet me once.”

I hesitated.

Then I remembered the favor.

“Fine. But not tonight. And don’t expect me to change my mind about leaving.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

I ended the call.

Madison, who had been sitting on the other side of the hotel room, looked at me.

“Was that Vincent?”

I nodded.

“Are you going back to him?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then what did he want?”

I looked down at my stomach.

“To explain something that no longer matters.”

Madison followed my gaze.

“Claire, have you thought about telling him?”

I shook my head.

“He gave me twenty million dollars to disappear from his life. I won’t give him another reason to keep me around out of obligation.”

She reached across the bed and squeezed my hand.

“Whatever you decide, I’ll be there.”

For the first time in days, I felt I wasn’t completely alone.

The following morning, I met Vincent at a private restaurant near the Chicago River.

He was already waiting when I arrived.

His black suit was immaculate, but something about his appearance seemed different. He looked as though he hadn’t slept.

When he saw me, he immediately stood.

“You came.”

“You said there was something I needed to know.”

He pulled out a chair.

I remained standing.

“Talk.”

Vincent looked at me for a long moment.

“Sophia and I were never officially engaged.”

“I know.”

“She told people we had planned to marry before she left Chicago. But that wasn’t true.”

I folded my arms.

“Why does that matter now?”

“Because she used my grandmother’s name to get close to my family again.”

My expression changed.

“What?”

Vincent took a folder from his briefcase.

“My grandmother discovered something about Sophia before she died. She hired a private investigator. The report showed Sophia had been secretly communicating with someone who wanted to destroy my family.”

He pushed the folder toward me.

I opened it.

There were photographs, bank transfers, and copies of private messages.

Then I saw a name.

Sophia Reynolds.

And beneath it was the name of a man I recognized.

Richard Bennett.

My father.

My hands went cold.

“My father died six years ago.”

Vincent nodded.

“I know.”

“Then why is his name here?”

“Because someone has been using his old accounts to move money. And Sophia was involved.”

I stared at the documents.

“What does this have to do with me?”

Vincent’s expression became unusually serious.

“Your grandmother knew something. That’s why she insisted we marry.”

I slowly raised my eyes.

“What did you just say?”

“My grandmother believed your family possessed something that could expose the people who had been stealing from the Moretti organization for years.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“You married me because of my family?”

“At first, I thought that was the reason.”

My heart sank.

“And afterward?”

He looked directly into my eyes.

“Afterward, I fell in love with you.”

I almost laughed.

“Then you should have remembered that before signing those divorce papers.”

Vincent lowered his gaze.

“I know.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I closed the folder.

“Thank you for telling me. But I still have a flight to catch.”

“Claire—”

“I won’t come back, Vincent.”

I turned toward the door.

His voice stopped me.

“Then at least tell me one thing. Why did you refuse the settlement?”

I looked over my shoulder.

“Because I never wanted your money.”

“What did you want?”

I smiled sadly.

“Someone who would choose me without needing a reason.”

Then I walked away.

I didn’t see the expression on his face.

But I heard the sound of his chair scraping against the floor as he stood.

And for the first time since our divorce, Vincent Moretti looked like a man who had just lost something he could never buy back.

At the airport, Madison was waiting beside the departure gate.

“Ready?”

I nodded.

But before we could board, my phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

One message appeared.

Claire Bennett, you have something that belongs to your father. Stop investigating Sophia Reynolds if you want to stay alive.

My blood ran cold.

I showed Madison.

She immediately grabbed my arm.

“We need to tell Vincent.”

“No.”

“Claire, this is serious!”

I looked at the message again.

Then another notification appeared.

This time, it was from Vincent.

Don’t board that plane. Someone has been following you since you left the restaurant. My men are at the airport.

I slowly turned toward the terminal windows.

Across the departure hall, a man in a gray coat was watching me.

The moment our eyes met, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

I suddenly understood something.

My divorce hadn’t ended my connection to the Moretti family.

It had only made me an easier target.