Chapter 2 - ROOM 214
The police separated everyone.
Vanessa was escorted to a private room.
Cynthia demanded an attorney.
Dr. Reed refused to answer questions without counsel.
Julian remained calm.
Almost too calm.
I had spent eleven years watching people lie inside the Grand Regent.
There was a difference between fear and calculation.
Julian wasn't afraid.
He was calculating.
Detective Torres asked me for the camera records.
I provided everything.
Entrance footage.
Hallway footage.
Elevator access.
Private dressing-room corridor.
Electronic locks.
At 7:42 p.m., Julian's guest card had opened the private dressing suite.
Three minutes later, Dr. Reed entered.
Then Vanessa.
Then Cynthia.
That was enough for Detective Torres to focus on him.
“Why were you in the dressing suite?”
Julian smiled.
“I was helping my sister-in-law.”
“Why?”
“She was having a difficult evening.”
“Why did Dr. Reed need your access?”
“Because he needed privacy.”
“For what?”
Julian didn't answer.
Then one of my officers came in carrying a small medical transport bracelet.
It contained one phrase:
NORTH VALLEY CARE CENTER — ROOM 214
Dr. Reed's face changed.
Alexander saw it.
“What is North Valley?”
Nobody answered.
Alexander stepped forward.
“Tell me.”
Dr. Reed looked at him.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because if I tell you, someone will die.”
Alexander's face hardened.
“Someone already did.”
Dr. Reed closed his eyes.
Then his phone rang.
The screen displayed:
NORTH VALLEY CARE CENTER.
Detective Torres answered.
A nurse's voice came through.
“Dr. Reed, we have a problem.”
“What?”
“The patient in Room 214 woke up.”
The doctor stopped breathing.
“She heard the gala broadcast.”
“What did she say?”
“She keeps asking for Alexander.”
Alexander moved closer.
The nurse continued.
“And she says Julian Whitmore is the man who tried to kill her.”
The call ended.
Nobody spoke.
Julian turned toward the door.
Two officers blocked him.
“You're not going anywhere.”
Alexander stared at his brother.
“Did you try to kill Eleanor?”
Julian shook his head.
“No.”
Dr. Reed whispered:
“You need to go to the hospital.”
Alexander looked at him.
“You've known she's alive.”
“I've known for months.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I was threatened.”
“By whom?”
Dr. Reed looked toward Julian.
That was the answer.
Julian's expression finally cracked.
He shouted:
“You don't understand!”
Alexander stepped toward him.
“Then explain.”
Julian's voice broke.
“Eleanor wasn't supposed to survive.”
Silence.
Alexander looked as though someone had punched him.
“What did you do?”
Julian looked away.
“I only arranged the accident.”
Alexander froze.
“You arranged my wife's death.”
“I thought she would die.”
“Who wanted her dead?”
Julian stared at Vanessa.
Vanessa had been listening from the doorway.
She began crying.
“Julian…”
Alexander looked between them.
“You both knew.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“I didn't know he was going to kill her.”
“But you knew she was alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Vanessa whispered:
“Because I saw her.”
“When?”
“At the clinic.”
Alexander stared.
“The clinic was treating her?”
Vanessa nodded.
“She survived the crash.”
“She had burns.”
“Memory loss.”
“And Dr. Reed kept her hidden.”
“Why?”
Vanessa looked toward Julian.
“He told us if she ever returned, the trust would go to her.”
Alexander finally understood.
This wasn't about a baby.
It wasn't even about Vanessa.
It was about the Whitmore empire.
Eleanor was Alexander's legal wife.
If she were alive, she retained rights over assets.
If she had a child, the inheritance structure changed again.
Vanessa had become the replacement wife.
A fake pregnancy had created a fake heir.
But there was one problem.
May you like
Eleanor was alive.
And she was waiting in Room 214.
