Chapter 2: The Letter She Tried to Hide
Marcus looked from my face to the shattered dishes on the floor.
For a moment, nobody moved.
The dining room that had always felt so elegant and perfect suddenly looked like a crime scene.
Broken glass glittered beneath the chandelier.
Soup stained the marble.
And my hands were still shaking.
"Emma," Marcus said again, stepping toward me.
"What happened?""
I opened my mouth.
But before I could answer, Eleanor moved.
She always moved before anyone else could.
She walked toward her son with tears already forming in her eyes.
It was almost impressive.
Almost.
"Marcus," she whispered, placing a hand over her heart.
"I don't even know how this happened.""
I stared at her.
I couldn't believe she was going to lie.
Not after everything.
Not after she had looked me in the eyes while I was burning.
Marcus frowned.
"What do you mean you don't know?""
Eleanor looked at the floor.
"I was trying to have a conversation with your wife.""
"My wife?""
The way she said it made my stomach turn.
Like I was something she had been forced to accept.
"And somehow," Eleanor continued, "things got out of control.""
I laughed once.
A small, angry sound.
"Things got out of control?""
Both of them looked at me.
I stepped forward.
"You threw a pot of boiling soup at me.""
Marcus went completely still.
"What?""
Eleanor immediately shook her head.
"No, that's not what happened.""
I looked at her.
"Are you serious?""
She reached toward Marcus.
"She was upset. She's pregnant. Her emotions have been all over the place.""
I felt something inside me break.
Not because Eleanor lied.
I expected that.
But because she used my pregnancy as an excuse.
As if carrying Marcus's child made me unstable.
As if my pain didn't count.
Marcus looked between us.
"Mom.""
His voice was different.
Not angry.
Not yet.
But uncertain.
And somehow, that hurt even more.
"Did you throw something at Emma?""
Eleanor's eyes widened.
"You believe her over me?""
"That's not what I asked.""
Silence filled the room.
I watched Marcus carefully.
This was the moment.
The moment I would finally know if I truly had a husband or if I had only married into a family where Eleanor Carter controlled everyone.
Eleanor looked away first.
"I was carrying the pot.""
Marcus waited.
"And?""
"And she startled me.""
I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"She startled you?""
My voice rose.
"You were standing three feet away from me.""
Eleanor looked at me with a warning in her eyes.
A warning only I understood.
Don't push.
Don't expose me.
Don't ruin my image.
But I was done protecting her.
"Marcus," I said quietly, "your mother burned me.""
His face changed.
The color drained from his cheeks.
"Emma...""
"I protected my stomach before I even realized I was hurt.""
My voice cracked.
"Because I was afraid something happened to our baby.""
Marcus looked at my arms.
Really looked.
The anger on his face grew.
"Mom.""
Eleanor sighed.
A dramatic, wounded sigh.
"Of course.""
She stepped back.
"This is exactly what I was afraid of.""
Marcus frowned.
"What are you talking about?""
"She is turning you against your own family.""
I stared at her.
The confidence she had moments ago was returning.
Because Eleanor knew something about Marcus.
She knew his biggest weakness.
His guilt.
She had spent his entire life making him feel responsible for her happiness.
"I never asked you to choose between me and your family," I said.
Eleanor smiled coldly.
"But that's exactly what you're doing.""
"No.""
I shook my head.
"I'm asking him to choose between the truth and a lie.""
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
"Enough.""
The word was quiet.
But everyone heard it.
Eleanor looked surprised.
I looked surprised.
Marcus rarely raised his voice around his mother.
"Mom," he said, "go upstairs.""
Her expression hardened.
"Excuse me?""
"Go upstairs.""
"After everything she's done?""
Marcus looked at the broken room.
"Just go.""
For the first time that night, Eleanor looked powerless.
Only for a second.
Then she walked past him.
As she passed me, she stopped.
Nobody else could hear.
"You think he saved you?""
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"You still don't understand.""
I looked at her.
"What?""
She smiled.
"The letter.""
My heart stopped.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about.""
I looked toward her hand.
The envelope was gone.
She had hidden it somewhere.
"You stole something that belongs to me.""
She leaned closer.
"No, Emma.""
Her eyes became cold.
"Your biggest mistake was believing Richard Carter was your ally.""
Then she walked away.
After Eleanor disappeared upstairs, Marcus helped me clean the soup from my arms.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
The silence was heavier than any argument.
Finally, he said, "We need to get you checked.""
"I'm okay.""
"Emma.""
His voice was gentle.
But I heard the fear underneath.
"I need to know the baby is okay.""
That was the first thing he had said all night that made me feel like my husband was still there.
I nodded.
"Okay.""
We left the mansion twenty minutes later.
Neither of us noticed Eleanor watching from the upstairs window.
But she was.
And she was holding something.
The envelope.
The doctor told us the baby was fine.
The burns were painful but not dangerous.
I cried when I heard the heartbeat.
Not because I was scared anymore.
Because I realized how close I had come to losing the one person who had never hurt me.
Marcus sat beside me, holding my hand.
His eyes were fixed on the monitor.
When we left the clinic, he didn't speak until we reached the car.
Then he said:
"I didn't know about the will.""
I looked at him.
"You didn't?""
He shook his head.
"No.""
His hands tightened around the steering wheel.
"My father never told me.""
"But Eleanor knew.""
"Apparently.""
I looked out the window.
The city lights blurred.
"Marcus, why didn't your father tell you?""
He didn't answer immediately.
That worried me.
Because Marcus was hiding something.
I knew him.
After three years of marriage, I knew every small expression.
Every hesitation.
Every time he was trying to avoid a painful truth.
"What aren't you telling me?""
He sighed.
"My father and I haven't been close.""
I looked at him.
"Because of Eleanor?""
His silence answered.
Marcus finally spoke.
"When I was younger, my father wanted me to take over the company.""
"And you didn't?""
"I wanted to become a photographer.""
I remembered that.
Before Marcus became part of Carter Holdings, he had spent years traveling with a camera.
He loved capturing ordinary moments.
People laughing.
Families together.
Things money couldn't buy.
"My mother hated it," he continued.
"She told me photography was a hobby, not a future.""
I looked down.
"She wanted control.""
Marcus nodded.
"Yes.""
The word was quiet.
Then he said something that made my entire body tense.
"Emma, there's something else.""
I turned toward him.
"What?""
He stared through the windshield.
"When my father got sick, he asked to meet with me privately.""
My heart started beating faster.
"What did he say?""
Marcus swallowed.
"He said if anything happened to him, I needed to protect you.""
A chill ran through me.
"Protect me from what?""
He didn't answer.
"Marcus.""
He looked at me.
And for the first time, I saw fear in my husband's eyes.
"From my mother.""
We returned to our apartment that night instead of going back to the Carter mansion.
Marcus packed our things while I sat on the couch.
Neither of us wanted to admit it.
But we both knew something had changed.
Eleanor wasn't just cruel.
She was dangerous.
Around midnight, Marcus came out of the bedroom holding a small wooden box.
"I found this.""
I looked at it.
"Where?""
"In the closet.""
He placed it on the table.
"My father gave this to me before we got married.""
I frowned.
"You never opened it?""
He shook his head.
"He told me not to.""
"Why?""
Marcus looked at the box.
"He said I'd know when the time was right.""
My fingers moved toward the latch.
Then stopped.
"What if it's about the will?""
Marcus didn't answer.
We both knew it probably was.
Slowly, he opened the box.
Inside was a stack of documents.
A photograph.
And a handwritten letter.
My breath caught.
The handwriting was familiar.
Richard Carter's.
Marcus picked up the letter.
Then froze.
"What?""
He turned it around.
My name was written across the front.
Not Marcus's.
Mine.
"Emma.""
I looked at the envelope.
The same handwriting.
The same name.
The same letter Eleanor had tried to hide.
Marcus handed it to me.
"Open it.""
My hands trembled as I broke the seal.
Inside was only one page.
One sentence at the top.
And the moment I read it, I felt the entire world shift.
*Emma, if you are reading this, it means Eleanor has already tried to stop you from finding the truth.*
I looked at Marcus.
Neither of us spoke.
I continued reading.
*The child you are carrying is not the only thing I left behind. There is something your mother-in-law has spent years hiding.*
My heartbeat became louder.
The final line was written darker than the rest.
Almost like Richard had pressed the pen into the paper with all his strength.
*Trust no one in this house — especially not the person who calls herself the protector of this family.*
I slowly lowered the letter.
Marcus looked terrified.
Because we both knew what it meant.
Richard Carter had expected this.
He knew Eleanor would come after me.
He knew she would try to stop the truth from coming out.
And somehow...
He had known she would attack me before I ever knew I was in danger.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
I opened it.
And my blood ran cold.
It was a photo.
A photo of Marcus and me leaving the doctor's office.
Taken from across the street.
May you like
Underneath it were six words:
*You should have left when I warned you.*
