Chapter 5
**Third Person POV:**
Dominic didn't go back to his office.
He sat in his car in the Meridian parking garage for forty-seven minutes, staring at the acquisition documents.
His driver asked twice if he was alright. He didn't answer either time.
The woman in that office was not the woman he'd married.
The Elena he knew was soft. Quiet. She flinched when he raised his voice. She waited up for him even when he told her not to. She folded his shirts by hand because she said the housekeepers didn't do it right.
She cried when he forgot their anniversary. She cried when Vivian came to dinner. She cried when he said they needed to talk about the divorce.
That Elena would never have sat behind a mahogany desk with a PhD on the wall and told him she was dismantling his empire.
So who the hell was this?
His phone rang. Vivian.
He almost ignored it, but habit pulled his thumb across the screen.
"Baby, where are you? I thought we were having lunch."
Her voice was light, musical—everything Elena's had never been.
"Something came up."
"Is everything okay? You sound weird."
He stared at the Meridian logo on the concrete pillar in front of him.
"Vivian. What do you know about Elena's family? Her birth parents?"
Silence.
"Her birth parents?" Vivian's laugh was strained. "Why would you—she was a nobody, Dom. My parents adopted her out of charity. She didn't even have a last name before us."
"Her last name is Voss."
The silence on the other end stretched too long.
"Vivian."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Her mother was Catherine Voss."
He heard a sharp intake of breath. Then Vivian recovered—quickly, smoothly.
"That's ridiculous. Where did you hear that?"
"From Elena herself. In her office at Meridian Pharmaceuticals. Where she's apparently the majority shareholder."
Dead silence.
"Vivian, I'm going to ask you one time. Did you know?"
Her voice came back—smaller now. Careful.
"Dom, listen, whatever she told you—she's lying. She's trying to manipulate you because of the divorce. You know how she is. She's always been—"
"Unstable? Clingy? Desperate?"
"Yes. Exactly."
"Funny. She seemed like the most stable person I've met in years."
He hung up.
That night, Dominic sat in his home office and did something he'd never done in three years of marriage.
He searched for Elena Voss.
The results made his blood run cold.
Catherine Voss—founder of Meridian Pharmaceuticals. Died in a car accident fifteen years ago. Survived by one daughter: Elena Catherine Voss, age 17. Custody transferred to the Reed family through a private arrangement.
The Reed family. Vivian's family.
He kept scrolling.
Elena Voss: PhD in biochemistry from Cambridge. Published seven papers before the age of twenty. Named in twelve pharmaceutical patents.
All of this—everything—had happened before their marriage. During their marriage. Right under his nose.
And he'd never once looked.
He'd told her to stay home. Told her the wives of men like him didn't need careers. Told her to focus on being presentable at charity galas.
And she'd just... let him believe it.
Why?
At 2 AM, he picked up his phone and dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail.
He tried again. Same result.
He typed a message: *"We need to talk."*
No response.
He typed another: *"I didn't know about your mother. I swear I didn't know."*
Read. No reply.
He stared at the screen until it went dark.
In the reflection, he barely recognized the man staring back at him.
---
Dominic didn't go back to his office.
He sat in his car in the Meridian parking garage for forty-seven minutes, staring at the acquisition documents.
His driver asked twice if he was alright. He didn't answer either time.
The woman in that office was not the woman he'd married.
The Elena he knew was soft. Quiet. She flinched when he raised his voice. She waited up for him even when he told her not to. She folded his shirts by hand because she said the housekeepers didn't do it right.
She cried when he forgot their anniversary. She cried when Vivian came to dinner. She cried when he said they needed to talk about the divorce.
That Elena would never have sat behind a mahogany desk with a PhD on the wall and told him she was dismantling his empire.
So who the hell was this?
His phone rang. Vivian.
He almost ignored it, but habit pulled his thumb across the screen.
"Baby, where are you? I thought we were having lunch."
Her voice was light, musical—everything Elena's had never been.
"Something came up."
"Is everything okay? You sound weird."
He stared at the Meridian logo on the concrete pillar in front of him.
"Vivian. What do you know about Elena's family? Her birth parents?"
Silence.
"Her birth parents?" Vivian's laugh was strained. "Why would you—she was a nobody, Dom. My parents adopted her out of charity. She didn't even have a last name before us."
"Her last name is Voss."
The silence on the other end stretched too long.
"Vivian."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Her mother was Catherine Voss."
He heard a sharp intake of breath. Then Vivian recovered—quickly, smoothly.
"That's ridiculous. Where did you hear that?"
"From Elena herself. In her office at Meridian Pharmaceuticals. Where she's apparently the majority shareholder."
Dead silence.
"Vivian, I'm going to ask you one time. Did you know?"
Her voice came back—smaller now. Careful.
"Dom, listen, whatever she told you—she's lying. She's trying to manipulate you because of the divorce. You know how she is. She's always been—"
"Unstable? Clingy? Desperate?"
"Yes. Exactly."
"Funny. She seemed like the most stable person I've met in years."
He hung up.
That night, Dominic sat in his home office and did something he'd never done in three years of marriage.
He searched for Elena Voss.
The results made his blood run cold.
Catherine Voss—founder of Meridian Pharmaceuticals. Died in a car accident fifteen years ago. Survived by one daughter: Elena Catherine Voss, age 17. Custody transferred to the Reed family through a private arrangement.
The Reed family. Vivian's family.
He kept scrolling.
Elena Voss: PhD in biochemistry from Cambridge. Published seven papers before the age of twenty. Named in twelve pharmaceutical patents.
All of this—everything—had happened before their marriage. During their marriage. Right under his nose.
And he'd never once looked.
He'd told her to stay home. Told her the wives of men like him didn't need careers. Told her to focus on being presentable at charity galas.
And she'd just... let him believe it.
Why?
At 2 AM, he picked up his phone and dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail.
He tried again. Same result.
He typed a message: *"We need to talk."*
No response.
He typed another: *"I didn't know about your mother. I swear I didn't know."*
Read. No reply.
He stared at the screen until it went dark.
In the reflection, he barely recognized the man staring back at him.
---