Chapter18
1209 Words
"That's a lie!" Miranda lunged toward him, but the security guards blocked her. "He's lying, Maeve! Everything he says is a lie!"
"Miranda, please." Carter's voice softened, became almost gentle. "You need help. Let me arrange for proper care. A facility where you can…"
"I'm not crazy!" But Miranda's voice cracked, and Maeve saw it, the doubt creeping in, the years of gaslighting taking their toll. "I'm not, Maeve, please, you have to believe me…"
"Miss Welch." One of the security guards spoke firmly. "We're going to escort you out. You can come willingly, or we'll call the police for trespassing."
Miranda looked at Maeve, desperation and defeat warring in her expression. "Please. Don't marry him. Don't make my mistake."
Then they were taking her away, her protests echoing through the observatory until a door slammed and silence fell.
Maeve stood there, trembling, trying to process what had just happened.
Carter approached slowly, like she was a wild animal he might spook.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said quietly. "Miranda is, she's not well. Hasn't been for years. I've tried to help her, but she refuses treatment. Every few months, she surfaces with some new conspiracy theory about me."
"She had photos. Documents."
"Which I can explain, if you'll let me." Carter pulled out his phone, showed her a medical file. "Miranda Welch was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and paranoid schizophrenia four years ago. Our engagement ended when she became convinced I was trying to poison her. She would hide from security cameras, accuse my staff of surveillance, refuse to eat anything she hadn't prepared herself. It was…" he paused, pain flickering across his face, "...heartbreaking. I loved her, and I couldn't reach her."
The file looked legitimate. Medical records, doctor's notes, everything corroborating his story.
But Maeve had seen Miranda's eyes. Had felt her terror. And terror like that wasn't manufactured.
"Why does she look like me?" Maeve asked.
Carter's jaw tightened. "Coincidence. Or maybe…" he sighed, "...maybe I have a type. Dark hair, strong features. Is that a crime?"
"It's a pattern."
"Two women isn't a pattern, Maeve. It's happenstance." He stepped closer. "Do you trust me or not? Because if the answer is not, then we should end this now. I can't be married to someone who believes I'm some kind of predator."
The ultimatum hung between them.
Maeve thought of the board meeting, of Carter supporting her recall plan even though it cost him. Of Linda saying there was still a good person buried under all the armor. Of Cameron's loyalty to his cousin despite everything.
And she thought of Miranda's terrified face, her desperate warnings, her claim that this was all a pattern Carter had perfected.
"I don't know," Maeve admitted. "I don't know what to believe."
Carter's expression cracked slightly. "At least that's honest." He gestured toward the exit. "Come on. I'll take you home."
They walked to his car in silence. But as Carter opened the passenger door for her, Maeve noticed something, a slight tremor in his hand, quickly suppressed.
He was rattled. Whatever he'd expected tonight, her ambivalence wasn't it.
In the car, neither spoke. The city lights blurred past, and Maeve tried to think clearly through the fog of confusion and fear.
Finally, Carter broke the silence. "Ask me."
"Ask you what?"
"Whatever you're thinking. Whatever's tearing you apart right now. Just ask me directly."
Maeve took a breath. "Did you hurt Miranda? Gaslight her, control her, drive her to break?"
"No." His answer was immediate, firm. "I failed her. I saw the signs of mental illness and didn't act fast enough. I tried to handle it privately when I should have involved professionals sooner. But I never…" his voice hardened, "...I never deliberately harmed her. That's not who I am."
"Then why is she so afraid of you?"
"Because paranoid delusions don't respond to logic. Because in her mind, I'm the villain of her story, and nothing I say will change that." He pulled up to her building, put the car in park. "Maeve, I'm not perfect. I'm controlling, I manipulate situations to my advantage, I make ruthless business decisions. But I'm not a monster who torments women for sport. If I were, do you think Cameron would work for me? Or Linda would still speak to me?"
It was a fair point.
"I need time," Maeve said. "To think. To figure out what's real."
"Take all the time you need. But the wedding is in five weeks. Eventually, you'll have to decide if you're in or out."
She got out of the car, started walking toward her building."Maeve." Carter's voice stopped her. When she turned, his expression was vulnerable in a way she'd never seen. "For what it's worth, I hope you choose to stay. Not because of the merger or the contract or any of that. But because I'm tired of being alone."
The admission hung in the air between them, raw and real.
Then he drove away, leaving Maeve standing on the sidewalk with more questions than answers and a growing certainty that nothing in this world was what it seemed.
Inside her apartment, Maeve paced, mind racing.
Miranda's terror had been real. The documents had been real. But Carter's medical files had also been real.
So who was lying?
Her phone buzzed. A text from Cameron: Mom told me you seemed upset when you left. You okay?
Maeve almost replied, almost told him everything. But something stopped her.
Cameron was loyal to Carter. If she told him about Miranda, would he help her uncover the truth? Or would he close ranks, protect his cousin like Linda said the family always did?
Another buzz. Detective Chen: Miss Wells, I need to speak with you. It's urgent. Please call me as soon as possible.
Maeve stared at the message. The detective had warned her before, told her to be careful.
Maybe it was time to listen.
She dialed.
Detective Chen answered on the first ring. "Miss Wells, thank God. Where are you?"
"Home. Why?"
"Stay there. Lock your doors. I'm sending a patrol car to watch your building."
Maeve's blood ran cold. "What's happening?"
"Miranda Welch was found two hours ago. Unconscious in her hotel room. Apparent overdose." Detective Chen's voice was grim. "Just like Jade Kensington. Just like two other women who were connected to Carter Langston over the past five years. Miss Wells, I need you to seriously consider the possibility that you're in danger.""Are you saying Carter is…"
"I'm saying that women who get close to Carter Langston have a disturbing tendency to end up hospitalized or dead. And you're about to marry him. So yes, Miss Wells. I'm very concerned for your safety."
The line went dead.
Maeve stood frozen, phone in hand, as the implications crashed over her.
Miranda had warned her. Jade had warned her. Now the police were warning her.
How many warnings did she need before she listened?
But then she thought of Tommy's tuition, paid in full. Her mother's experimental treatment, saving her life. Rita's diner, being rebuilt into something sustainable.
Carter had given her all of that.
And all he wanted in return was two years of her life.
The room spun.
- Writer
