Chapter 14 - The Friend Who Watched Me Bleed
Chloe did not run.
When I entered the conference room, she saw the diary in my hand and understood immediately.
Her face collapsed.
“Where did you get that?”
“You gave me the key.”
She closed her eyes.
“I forgot the diary was there.”
“No.”
I placed it on the table.
“You wanted me to find it.”
She started crying.
“Maybe.”
Dana remained near the door.
I sat across from Chloe.
For a long time, I said nothing.
Silence frightened her more than anger.
Finally she whispered, “Say something.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“From the first diagnosis.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Marcus was infertile.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me believe it was me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She wiped her face.
“Because he asked me to.”
I laughed.
“That’s your answer?”
“No.”
“Then give me the real one.”
She looked at me.
“I loved him.”
“So you destroyed me.”
“Yes.”
“Why not leave?”
“I tried.”
“Not very hard.”
“No.”
I opened the diary.
“You knew he removed my medication.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I was pregnant.”
“Not until after the first blood test.”
“But before your transfer.”
“Yes.”
“You still went.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Chloe’s lips trembled.
“Because I wanted what you had.”
I stared at her.
“My husband?”
“Your life.”
The honesty surprised me.
“Explain.”
“You walked into rooms and people listened.”
“You built Harbor House.”
“You had the house.”
“The marriage.”
“Everyone respected you.”
I almost laughed.
“You thought I had a perfect life while I was injecting hormones into my stomach every morning?”
“I know how disgusting it sounds.”
“It sounds pathetic.”
She nodded.
“It was.”
“You could have built your own life.”
“I didn’t believe I could.”
“So you stole mine.”
“Yes.”
No defense.
No excuse.
Just yes.
I looked toward the window.
“You know what the worst part is?”
She shook her head.
“It isn’t Marcus.”
Her face crumpled.
“I expected my husband to owe me loyalty.”
“But you knew me since we were nineteen.”
“I held your hand when your mother died.”
“You sat beside me when my father had surgery.”
“You knew which songs I hated.”
“You knew I slept with the television on when Marcus traveled.”
“You knew I wanted a little boy named Noah.”
Chloe sobbed.
“I know.”
“You took the name too.”
“I know.”
“You stood in my bedroom while I was drugged.”
“I know.”
“You watched Marcus steal medicine keeping my pregnancy alive.”
“I know.”
“And the next morning, you put my embryos inside your body.”
She covered her face.
“I know.”
I leaned forward.
“No.”
“Look at me.”
She lowered her hands.
“You don’t get to hide now.”
Her eyes met mine.
“Did you want my pregnancy to fail?”
The question had lived inside me since reading the diary.
Chloe stopped breathing.
“Answer.”
Tears streamed down her face.
“Yes.”
The word nearly killed something in me.
I sat back.
Not because I was surprised.
Because she finally said it.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
“I am.”
“Your sorrow is yours.”
“Carry it.”
“Do not ask me to make it lighter.”
She nodded.
I stood.
“Elena.”
I stopped.
“I love Noah.”
“I know.”
“Please don’t punish him for what I did.”
I turned.
“That is the difference between you and me.”
“You made decisions based on what hurt me most.”
“I will make decisions based on what hurts him least.”
Chloe began crying harder.
I left.
Her diary destroyed any remaining argument that she had been merely deceived.
Prosecutors revoked the tentative cooperation deal and renegotiated under far harsher terms.
Chloe faced conspiracy charges.
Forgery.
Fraud.
Participation in unlawful reproductive transfers.
She still agreed to testify against Marcus and Keller.
Not because it would save her.
Because nothing could now.
The shelter board voted unanimously to remove Marcus and Chloe permanently.
Asset recovery began.
The estate was frozen.
Several investment accounts were seized.
For the first time, Marcus’s wealth could not protect him automatically.
Then he did something unexpected.
He asked to see me.
I refused.
He asked again through Dana.
I refused.
Then he sent a message.
I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO JULIA BRENNER.
That changed things.
Renee arranged the meeting.
Marcus appeared behind glass wearing jail clothes.
Without the suit, watch, and polished environment, he looked ordinary.
I wondered how that felt.
“You came.”
“Talk.”
“You always hated small talk.”
“I hated your small talk.”
He smiled faintly.
Then looked at my face.
“You’ve met all of them.”
“All five.”
His smile disappeared.
“Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know?”
“Not everything.”
“Claire?”
“Yes.”
“Lucas?”
“Yes.”
“Mila?”
“Yes.”
“Noah?”
I stared at him.
“He reaches for me now.”
Something changed in Marcus’s eyes.
Jealousy.
Even now.
“You enjoy that.”
“I love him.”
“You barely know him.”
“I know enough.”
Marcus leaned back.
“Keller killed Julia.”
My pulse changed.
“Proof?”
“I have none.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because he told me.”
“When?”
“After the accident.”
“What exactly?”
“He said Julia would never be a problem again.”
“That isn’t a confession.”
“No.”
“What else?”
“He had been giving her medication.”
“What kind?”
“Sedatives.”
“Why?”
“She was threatening to contact you.”
I felt sick.
“Did you know before she died?”
Marcus looked away.
“Yes.”
“You did nothing.”
“She wasn’t my problem.”
My hand curled into a fist.
“She was raising your son.”
“I didn’t know Ethan existed then.”
I stared.
“Keller hid him from you.”
“Yes.”
For perhaps the first time, Marcus had also been robbed.
The thought gave me no satisfaction.
“How did you discover him?”
“Adrian.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“Did you contact Julia?”
“She was already dead.”
“Marissa?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Marcus looked at me as if the answer were obvious.
“What would I say?”
“You could have said you were his father.”
“He had a family.”
I almost laughed.
The exact reasoning I was now using.
Except Marcus had used it only when responsibility was inconvenient.
“Why tell me this?”
“Because Keller is going to blame me for Julia.”
“Did you have anything to do with her death?”
“No.”
I studied him.
“I don’t believe you.”
“That’s your problem.”
“No.”
“That is finally yours.”
His face hardened.
He leaned closer to the glass.
“You think you’re winning.”
“This isn’t a game.”
“It always was with you.”
I stared.
“What game?”
“Being better.”
“You had to be the moral one.”
“The charity founder.”
“The patient wife.”
“The woman everybody trusted.”
I almost pitied him.
Almost.
“You resented me.”
“I resented being your supporting character.”
I laughed softly.
“You could have left.”
“I did.”
“After stealing five children.”
His jaw clenched.
“They were mine too.”
“They were never yours to hide from me.”
“You would have taken them.”
“I would have mothered them.”
“You would have used them against me.”
“That is what you did.”
Silence.
Marcus looked toward the guard.
Then back at me.
“There is something else you should know.”
I almost smiled.
“Of course there is.”
“Adrian kept one file from investigators.”
“What file?”
“Client Zero.”
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“The first transaction before BioLegacy officially existed.”
“My embryo?”
“No.”
I frowned.
“You just said my embryos started it.”
“The commercial business.”
“Client Zero came earlier.”
“Who?”
Marcus looked strangely nervous.
“My father.”
I stopped breathing.
Marcus’s father, Walter Mercer, had died eight years ago.
Before our fertility treatment began.
“What did he do?”
“He funded Keller’s earliest research.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted grandchildren.”
I stared at him.
“We had barely started trying.”
“He didn’t care.”
“What did he fund?”
Marcus swallowed.
“Genetic screening.”
“Sperm preservation.”
“Embryo creation.”
My skin went cold.
“Whose embryos?”
“No embryos.”
“Not then.”
“What did he preserve?”
Marcus looked down.
“My sperm.”
I frowned.
“Before your diagnosis?”
“Years before.”
The missing piece clicked.
Marcus had banked healthy sperm before his fertility declined.
That was how Keller created embryos despite later severe male-factor infertility.
But something still did not fit.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because my father made me sign an agreement.”
“What agreement?”
“That reproductive materials funded by the Mercer trust belonged to the trust.”
“That cannot be legally valid.”
“I know that now.”
“He treated sperm like an asset.”
“Yes.”
“Did Keller use the frozen samples for my embryos?”
Marcus nodded.
“Without telling me.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Every consent form I signed had been fiction.
Then Marcus whispered, “There were more samples.”
I opened my eyes.
“How many?”
“A lot.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened to them?”
“Keller kept them.”
“Did he use them with other women?”
Marcus said nothing.
My skin went cold.
“How many children are biologically yours?”
“I don’t know.”
And suddenly this nightmare expanded again.
Not because more of my embryos had been stolen.
Because Keller may have used Marcus’s genetic material to create entirely different embryos with other women’s eggs.
“Why would Keller do that?”
“Because my father’s profile tested well.”
I felt nauseated.
“Premium line.”
Marcus looked surprised.
“You saw that.”
“Yes.”
His face changed.
Then he whispered, “That term did not refer to you.”
I stared.
“It referred to me.”
The photographs in Keller’s apartment flashed through my mind.
Children.
Codes.
Premium line.
My mouth went dry.
“How many?”
Marcus looked almost afraid.
“I only know of eleven.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
“Eleven what?”
“Children.”
May you like
And somewhere beyond the five children stolen from my marriage, there might be eleven more carrying Marcus’s DNA because an old man, a corrupt doctor, and a son obsessed with legacy decided human life could be cataloged like stock.
---
