That’s fucking great. Sorry to disappoint.
Seemingly unaware of how hurtful she was, Marilyn continued, “We’d already established a ruse about you. There was no sense denying it. According to everything we told people, you died. You were born two months prematurely and didn’t survive. Our story was that Johnathon and I conceived you on our wedding night.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“Victoria, you are twenty-nine. Your birthday isn’t in May, it’s October ninth of the year before. You recently turned twenty-nine.”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“It was Johnathon’s idea. In Carlisle’s mind he’d almost lost his place in the family business due to you. Making it seem like you were Johnathon’s and not Carlisle’s was to protect you. We had the date on your birth certificate changed. According to our story, the baby I was due to deliver in October never lived. She died just like her twin.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“There was more about your father, but with you and me out of the way, he made his way with another woman, one the family liked. The whole ordeal was a lot for me to handle,” Marilyn went on. “I didn’t do it well. As you know Randall saved me. You know that we met in group therapy. My addiction was alcohol and his was gambling. I’ve never drunk again, but Randall continued to fight his demons; however, even those weren’t what you thought.
“Your true identity would cause a major wrinkle in their finely constructed nobility. There were some people who would say that because you lived, Carlisle’s place within the family wasn’t secure. In their business, trust is essential. If it were determined that he’d lied about the identity of his firstborn, it could be the first string to unravel more than they wanted to reveal.”
My head ached as I tried to construct this family tree, one that as of an hour ago didn’t exist.
“Victoria, Carlisle’s family warned me to kill you before you were born. After Carlisle left me, Niccolo, his brother, came to see me. He told me to have an abortion. He even made me an appointment. Johnathon and I left town the day of that appointment.
“It was true that Randall owed the organization money. It wasn’t Carlisle’s family. It was another family, one who wanted to prove to the world that Carlisle’s family lied: to prove that he had a daughter before he had a son. Before you married Stewart, this other family ensured that Randall’s debt was insurmountable. They capitalized on his addiction and continued to offer him opportunities that never paid off. It wasn’t until they asked for you that we knew.”
“What? They asked specifically for me?”
She nodded her head. “I know I’ve never been a good mother, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t allow them to take you. When I was very young, I saw what happened to women, women who weren’t part of the family. If they had you, Carlisle’s daughter, they could prove that his family lied about you and they could use you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t even want to think about what they could have done to you.”
My mind was a blur. Could any of this be true?
“How did Stewart become involved?”
Marilyn wiped her eyes and sniffed, before she continued, “Randall had met Stewart through his medical practice. There were rumors that the families that I’ve mentioned conducted some of their business through Harrington Spas and Suites.” She reached for my hand again. This time the cold didn’t even register. “I’m not insinuating that your husband was involved in illegal activities. What I’m saying is that he had power, power over some of the business that went on behind the scenes. Stewart Harrington was the only person we knew who could possibly have the kind of money that we needed to save you from those people.”
“How much Mother? How much did Stewart pay for me?”
“Victoria, you weren’t sold. You were saved.”
I sat straighter. “How much?”
“Over six million.”
My jaws ached, temples throbbed, and mouth dried. I reached for the water bottle and tried to drink, but, suddenly, the water tasted sour and my stomach threatened to revolt. “I can’t… I don’t even know what to say.”
“My dear, this is too much. The thing is, this isn’t all. There’s more. Please let me come to your apartment. We’re almost to my house. I need you to know everything.”
I shook my head. “Not today. I don’t think I can handle any more.”
She looked around at the street. Ignoring my plea for silence, she spoke fast. “When your husband paid Randall’s debt, the organization was upset. They thought they had this perfect plan Stewart foiled it. Randall said there were some rumblings of discontent, but then after you’d been married for a year or so, things seemed to settle down. During all of this, I did my best to distance myself from you. I hoped that they’d still believe you were truly a Conway.
“I can’t prove it, but I suspect that Randall’s accident wasn’t due to unpaid gambling debts. It was a warning to me: a reminder that I know too much. He did owe money, but comparatively it wasn’t that much.”
“I know Randall asked Stewart to cover it.”
Marilyn looked down. “I don’t blame you for saying no. I did at one time, but now I don’t. I’m not sure how long it would have been before they came back for more.” She looked down. “Randall wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t.”