Chapter 5: The Mother Who Knew Everything
I kept the phone against my ear, unable to speak.
Beatrice's voice echoed in my mind.
Not because she sounded scared.
Because she sounded like she still believed she had power.
"If you want to know what Marcus was really hiding," she repeated, "you need to come see me before your father finds out the rest.""
I looked across the coffee shop table.
My father was watching me carefully.
Natalie had gone completely silent.
Everyone was waiting for my response.
Finally, I asked, "What exactly is the rest?""
There was a pause.
A long one.
The kind of pause people make when they are deciding how much truth they can reveal without hurting themselves.
Then Beatrice said, "Not over the phone.""
My jaw tightened.
"You have spent months making decisions about my life without me. You don't get to suddenly become mysterious.""
Her breathing changed.
For the first time, she sounded less confident.
"I made mistakes.""
I almost laughed.
Mistakes.
That was the word people used when they wanted to make something terrible sound smaller.
"You didn't make a mistake at my wedding reception," I said.
"You gave me rules.""
"Valeria—"
"You told me to hand over my income.""
Silence.
"You told me to put my property in Marcus's name.""
Silence.
"You told me your family would come before mine.""
My voice lowered.
"That wasn't a mistake. That was a plan.""
Beatrice didn't answer.
And that silence told me more than any confession could.
I ended the call.
My father leaned forward.
"You don't have to meet her.""
"I know.""
"Then why are you considering it?""
I looked down at the documents scattered across the table.
The fake relationship.
The financial plan.
The ring purchased months before the proposal.
Every answer created another question.
"I need to know how deep this goes.""
My father studied me.
"Valeria.""
I looked up.
"All my life, you taught me to look at people's actions before their words.""
He nodded.
"Yes.""
"Marcus's actions are telling me something.""
I touched the folder.
"Everyone knew something except me.""
My father's expression softened.
"You were the one person he couldn't manipulate because you believed the best in him.""
That hurt.
Because it was true.
I had always thought trusting someone was a strength.
Now I wondered if I had confused trust with ignoring reality.
Natalie quietly closed her folder.
"There is something else you should know.""
I looked at her.
"What?""
She hesitated.
"Beatrice knew about the documents.""
My father immediately turned toward her.
"How do you know?""
Natalie looked uncomfortable.
"Because I saw her name on one of the emails.""
My stomach dropped.
"What email?""
Natalie pulled out her laptop.
She opened a message thread.
The sender was Marcus.
The recipient was Beatrice.
The subject:
*Valeria Situation.*
I felt sick.
The first message was from Marcus.
"She is more independent than expected. She asks too many questions.""
Beatrice's response came two days later.
"Then stop treating her like an equal. A woman who loves you will eventually compromise.""
I stopped reading.
I couldn't.
My father reached over and closed the laptop.
Enough.
He didn't need to see more.
Neither did I.
But there was one sentence that stayed in my mind.
A woman who loves you will eventually compromise.
That was what they thought love was.
Not partnership.
Not respect.
A weakness they could use.
Beatrice agreed to meet that afternoon.
She chose a restaurant downtown.
Of course she did.
Not a private office.
Not her home.
A public place.
A place where she could control the environment.
When I arrived, she was already seated.
She wore the same kind of expensive clothing she always wore.
Perfect hair.
Perfect makeup.
Perfect image.
But something was different.
She looked tired.
Not guilty.
Tired.
I sat across from her.
"I came because I want answers.""
Beatrice folded her hands.
"I know.""
"No.""
I looked directly at her.
"You don't.""
She took a breath.
"Marcus made mistakes.""
Again.
That word.
I almost smiled.
"Everyone keeps saying that.""
"He was under pressure.""
"Pressure doesn't make people create fake relationships.""
Her eyes shifted.
A tiny movement.
But I noticed.
Because now I was paying attention.
"What did you know?""
She looked away.
"Valeria.""
"What did you know?""
The restaurant noise continued around us.
People talking.
Glasses clinking.
A server laughing nearby.
A completely normal afternoon.
While I sat across from the woman who had helped destroy my marriage before it began.
Finally, Beatrice spoke.
"I knew Marcus was interested in your family.""
The honesty surprised me.
Maybe because I expected another lie.
"Interested?""
She swallowed.
"He saw your father as an opportunity.""
The word made me angry.
But I stayed calm.
"Did he see me as an opportunity?""
She didn't answer.
That was enough.
I nodded slowly.
"How long?""
"Valeria...""
"How long did you know?""
Beatrice looked down.
"Since before the engagement.""
My chest tightened.
Before the engagement.
Before the ring.
Before the proposal.
The timeline kept moving backward.
"Did you know he was going to propose?""
"Yes.""
"Did you know about the financial documents?""
A pause.
Then:
"Yes.""
The answer felt like a physical blow.
I looked at her.
"You knew your son was planning to use me.""
Her eyes filled slightly.
"I thought he would change.""
I stared.
That was her excuse.
Not that she didn't know.
Not that she disagreed.
She knew.
And she hoped marriage would somehow transform him into a different person.
"You watched him build a relationship based on a lie.""
"I wanted him to be successful.""
There it was.
The truth.
Not love.
Not family.
Success.
I leaned back.
"And what about me?""
Beatrice looked confused.
"What?""
"What did you want for me?""
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because she had never considered that question.
Not once.
I nodded.
"I understand.""
"Valeria, please.""
"No.""
My voice was quiet.
"Now I understand everything.""
I stood.
But before I could leave, Beatrice said something that stopped me.
"There is one thing Marcus doesn't know.""
I turned.
"What?""
She looked afraid.
Actually afraid.
"Your father wasn't the only person investigating him.""
I frowned.
"What does that mean?""
Beatrice looked toward the window.
"I started looking into Marcus six months ago.""
My heart slowed.
"Why?""
She looked back at me.
"Because I found out he was hiding something from me too.""
That wasn't what I expected.
"You mean there are things you don't know?""
A bitter smile crossed her face.
"My son thinks he is smarter than everyone.""
She reached into her purse.
Pulled out an envelope.
And pushed it across the table.
"I found this in his apartment.""
I didn't touch it.
"What is it?""
Beatrice looked at me.
"Proof that Marcus had another plan.""
"Another plan?""
She nodded.
"He wasn't just trying to marry you.""
My fingers moved toward the envelope.
"What else was he trying to do?""
Beatrice lowered her voice.
"He was preparing for a divorce before the wedding even happened.""
I froze.
The restaurant suddenly felt silent.
"That's impossible.""
"I wish it was.""
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a legal document.
A draft agreement.
My eyes moved across the page.
And then I saw the title.
*Post-Marriage Asset Transfer and Separation Strategy.*
My hands went cold.
At the bottom was Marcus's signature.
Dated two weeks before our wedding.
I looked at Beatrice.
She looked away.
For the first time since I met her, she looked ashamed.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
From Marcus.
One sentence.
No apology.
No explanation.
Just a warning.
*"Your father is going to destroy everything unless you stop digging.""*
I stared at the screen.
And I finally understood.
Marcus wasn't trying to save our marriage.
He was trying to protect himself.
But underneath his message was something else.
A hidden threat.
And I knew one thing.
May you like
If he was willing to send that after everything I had discovered...
Then the truth I hadn't found yet was far worse than I imagined.
