CHAPTER 3: The Husband Who Chose the Wrong Witness

Grant Cross loved rooms that obeyed him.
Boardrooms, dinner rooms, charity stages, private clubs with brass nameplates outside the elevator. He had learned to speak softly because rich men did not need to shout to be cruel.
Tonight, he lowered himself one step toward Amelia.
“Do not make this bigger than it is,” he said.
Amelia pressed her palm to her belly and waited until the next wave of pain became only fear.
“Your mistress shoved me on the stairs.”
Grant’s face tightened, not with concern, but with irritation that she had said it clearly.
Celeste moved closer to him.
“Grant, she’s trying to ruin everything.”
Everything meant the merger dinner scheduled for the following morning. Everything meant his new tower. Everything meant the image of a devoted family man with a pregnant wife and a polished future.
Amelia stared at him.
“You are standing over your wife,” she said, “and still asking how this affects you.”
That was the first moment Grant looked afraid.