CHAPTER14
1055 Words
Maeve felt sick. "What do we do?"
"We?" Carter looked at her, something shifting in his expression. "You're asking what we do?"
"You said united front, remember? Whatever our issues in private, in public we're together. So yes. We. What's the strategy?"
For the first time since she'd met him, Carter looked genuinely surprised. Like he'd expected her to panic, to blame him, to try to escape.
Instead, she'd stepped beside him.
"The strategy," he said slowly, "is to prove her wrong. Tomorrow, we're going on a site visit to one of the factories. The one where the faulty products originated. You'll be there as VP of Product Development. We'll announce an immediate safety audit, show that we're taking responsibility. We make Jade look vindictive and us look proactive."
"And if she's right? If the products are still dangerous?"
"Then you'll have the authority to fix it. That's your job now, remember? Make sure nothing like this ever happens again."
It was a test, Maeve realized. He was giving her real power to see what she'd do with it.
"Okay," she said. "I'm in. But I have conditions."
Carter's eyebrow raised. "You're in no position to negotiate."
"Maybe not. But I'm doing it anyway." She crossed her arms. "First, you stop tracking my phone. If you need to know where I am, you ask me like a normal human being. Second, Cameron's my friend. I won't have you poisoning that relationship because you're jealous or controlling or whatever this is. And third…" she stepped closer, making sure he heard every word, "...if I find out you're lying to me about the products, about the safety issues, about any of it, I will walk. Contract or no contract. You can sue me for every penny, but I will not be complicit in hurting people. Are we clear?"
Silence stretched between them, taut as a wire.
Then Carter smiled, a real smile that reached his eyes and transformed his entire face.
"Crystal clear, Mrs. Langston." He offered his hand. "Deal."
She shook it, and the contact sent electricity up her arm.
"I should go," Carter said, but he didn't move. "Let you get settled. Big day tomorrow."
"Carter?" She stopped him as he reached the door. "Why did you really choose me? The truth, not the PR version."
He turned, studied her for a long moment. "Because everyone else wanted the power and money. You wanted to fix things. I've spent my whole life surrounded by people who want to take. You're the first person I've met who wants to build." His voice softened. "That's rare. Worth protecting."
Then he was gone, leaving Maeve alone in her gilded cage, wondering if she'd just made an alliance or signed her own death warrant.
The next morning, Maeve woke up to her phone ringing at 5 AM.
Not Diane. Not Carter. An unknown number.
She answered groggily. "Hello?"
"Miss Wells?" A woman's voice, unfamiliar. "This is Detective Sarah Chen with LAPD. I'm investigating the incident involving Jade Kensington. I'd like to ask you a few questions."
Maeve sat up, suddenly wide awake. "About what?"
"About your relationship with Mr. Langston. And about a conversation you had with Ms. Kensington the night she was hospitalized. Hospital security footage shows you visiting her room. What did you discuss?"
Her mouth went dry. "I, we just talked. She wanted to congratulate me on the engagement."
"That's interesting, because Ms. Kensington's attorney claims she was trying to warn you. That she shared information about Mr. Langston's business practices, and shortly after you left, someone attempted to access her hospital room. Someone who wasn't authorized to be there."
Maeve's heart pounded. "I don't know anything about that."
"Miss Wells, if you're in danger, we can help you. But you need to be honest with us. Are you being coerced into this marriage?"
"No. I'm, this is my choice."
"Is Mr. Langston listening to this call?"
"What? No!"
"Then let me ask you plainly: Do you believe Carter Langston is capable of violence? Of silencing people who threaten him?"
Maeve thought of the edited video Jade had shown her, of Carter's controlled fury, of the way he'd manipulated every situation to his advantage.
"I don't know," she whispered honestly.
"That's not a no." Detective Chen's voice softened. "Miss Wells, you're about to marry a very powerful man. But power doesn't make someone untouchable. If he's done something illegal, if you have information that could help us protect others…"
"I don't." The lie came automatically. "I'm sorry, Detective. I can't help you."
She hung up, hands shaking.
Immediately, her phone rang again. Carter.
"Don't answer any more calls from LAPD," he said without preamble. "If they contact you again, refer them to my lawyers. Understand?"
"You're tapping my phone."
"I'm protecting you. There's a difference. That detective? She's being paid by Jade's family to build a case against me. Anything you tell her will be twisted and used. Don't engage."
"So I'm just supposed to pretend the police aren't investigating you?"
"The police are investigating Jade's overdose, which was self-inflicted. I had nothing to do with it. But her family is wealthy and connected, and they want to believe I'm a villain. So yes, you're supposed to let my legal team handle it and focus on your actual job." His voice hardened. "Factory visit in two hours. Diane's on her way up. Be ready."
He hung up.
Maeve sat there, her new apartment suddenly feeling like a very expensive prison, and wondered how many more lies she'd have to tell before this was over.
And whether she'd recognize herself when it was done.
The factory smelled like metal and desperation.
Maeve stood in the middle of the production floor, wearing a hard hat that felt absurd paired with her designer suit, watching workers assemble refrigerator components with efficient, mechanical precision. Carter stood beside her, playing the role of attentive fiancé for the cameras following their every move.
This was theater. Carefully choreographed PR to counter Jade's interview, which had aired two hours ago to devastating effect. Robin Roberts had been sympathetic, Jade had been compelling, and social media was now a wildfire of #SaveMaeve hashtags and conspiracy theories.
"Miss Wells," the factory manager, a nervous man named Douglas Finch, gestured toward a section of the floor.
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