Chapter 4: The Secret Behind Brielle's Birth
I stared at the photograph for almost a full minute.
A baby wrapped in a pale pink hospital blanket.
A tiny silver bracelet around her wrist.
And my mother's handwriting on the back.
Richard knows the truth about Brielle's birth. And one day, Nia, you will need to know it too.
I looked up at Margaret Whitmore.
“Why would my mother have a photograph of Brielle?””
Margaret didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she closed the conference room door.
“Because Elena knew something about your stepsister that your father desperately wanted to keep hidden.””
I swallowed.
“Is Brielle adopted?””
“No.””
“Then what?””
Margaret took a seat.
“Your mother discovered that Richard had been involved with another woman before he married Vanessa. That woman gave birth to Brielle.””
I stared at her.
“But Vanessa is Brielle's mother.””
“Vanessa raised her. That's not necessarily the same thing.””
I looked down at the photograph again.
“Who was the woman?””
Margaret opened the black envelope and removed another document.
A hospital record.
The patient's name had been partially covered with black ink.
But the date was visible.
Twenty-two years earlier.
The same year Brielle was born.
“Her name was Camille Brooks,” Margaret explained.
“She was a young designer who worked at Carter & Rose.””
I felt a strange chill.
“Was she my mother's friend?””
“Initially, yes. She and Elena were close. Camille was talented, but she had very little money. Your mother helped her when she was pregnant.””
I looked at the hospital record.
“Then why did Vanessa raise Brielle?””
Margaret folded her hands.
“Because Camille died shortly after giving birth. Richard was the biological father. Vanessa was already involved with him, and she agreed to raise the child as her own.””
I tried to process the information.
My stepsister wasn't Vanessa's biological daughter.
My father had hidden an entire family history.
But something still didn't make sense.
“Why would my mother keep this secret?””
Margaret sighed.
“Because Camille had asked her to protect Brielle.””
I looked up.
“Protect her from what?””
“Richard.””
The word hung between us.
Margaret explained that Camille had discovered something troubling about the company's finances shortly before Brielle was born.
She had found evidence that Richard was transferring money from the business into private accounts.
She intended to tell Elena.
But before she could, she became seriously ill.
Elena promised to look after her baby.
After Camille's death, Richard took Brielle home.
Vanessa agreed to raise her, but only under one condition.
Nobody would ever mention Camille again.
“Why would Vanessa agree to that?”” I asked.
Margaret gave me a sad look.
“Because Vanessa wanted Richard, his money, and his position. Raising his child allowed her to become part of the family.””
I sat back.
For years, Vanessa had treated me like an unwanted reminder of my father's first marriage.
But apparently, the family she had built was founded on secrets of its own.
I looked at Margaret.
“Does Brielle know?””
“I don't believe she does.””
“Does my father know my mother knew?””
Margaret nodded.
“That's why the photograph matters.””
I stared at the baby's face.
Brielle had always believed she was the rightful princess of the Carter family.
She had grown up surrounded by expensive gifts, private tutors, luxury holidays, and every opportunity imaginable.
I had spent years being reminded that I didn't belong.
But perhaps the person who had worked hardest to make me feel unwanted had been hiding something far more complicated.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Evelyn.
Nia, please call me. Something happened at the studio.
I immediately called her.
She answered on the first ring.
“Nia?””
“Evelyn, what's wrong?””
Her breathing sounded uneven.
“Two men came back this morning. They forced the lock and went through the archive.””
I stood.
“Did they take anything?””
“Not everything. But they took your mother's original Crimson Garden sketches.””
My stomach dropped.
“Did you call the police?””
“Yes. But I know who sent them.””
“Who?””
There was a pause.
“Richard Carter.””
I closed my eyes.
Margaret watched my expression.
“Evelyn, are you safe?””
“I am now. But there's something else. Before they left, one of them asked where Camille's records were kept.””
I froze.
“Camille?””
“Yes. They were looking for something connected to her.””
I looked at Margaret.
Her expression had changed.
“Evelyn, listen to me. Don't go anywhere alone. I'll arrange for someone to come and help you.””
After ending the call, I turned toward Margaret.
“Why would my father want Camille's records now?””
Margaret stood.
“Because he knows you've discovered the truth about Brielle.””
I shook my head.
“I haven't told anyone.””
“Richard doesn't need you to tell him. He knows which documents were left behind, and he knows where Elena kept them.””
Margaret walked toward the window.
“Your father has spent twenty years trying to bury two separate scandals. The ownership fraud and Camille's death.””
I stared at her.
“Are you saying Camille didn't die naturally?””
Margaret turned.
“I'm saying we don't have enough information to know.””
That afternoon, I returned to the Carter mansion with a decision.
I wasn't going to confront my father immediately.
Not until I understood what my mother had discovered.
But I needed to know whether Brielle was aware of anything.
I found her in the upstairs dressing room.
She was surrounded by garment bags, luxury shoes, and several assistants preparing her outfits for the gala.
A large photograph of her latest campaign hung above the mirror.
She looked perfect.
As always.
“Brielle.””
She glanced at me through the mirror.
“What?””
“Can we talk?””
“If this is about your ugly dress, I'm not interested.””
“It's about your mother.””
She turned.
“Excuse me?””
I walked closer.
“Do you know anything about Camille Brooks?””
The color drained from her face.
It was brief.
Almost invisible.
But I saw it.
“Who?””
“Camille Brooks.””
She stood up.
“Where did you hear that name?””
“My mother knew her.””
Brielle laughed nervously.
“My mother knows lots of people.””
“I'm talking about your biological mother.””
The room went silent.
One of the assistants dropped a shoe.
Brielle stared at me.
“What did you just say?””
I took a breath.
“I found a photograph. My mother kept records about your birth.””
Brielle shook her head.
“That's ridiculous.””
“Your mother may not be Vanessa.””
She slapped me.
The sound echoed through the dressing room.
I touched my cheek.
Brielle's eyes were wide.
“Take that back.””
“Brielle—”
“TAKE IT BACK!””
I stared at her.
“I didn't say it to hurt you.””
“You're lying!””
She grabbed a perfume bottle and threw it against the wall.
Glass shattered.
One of the assistants rushed out.
Brielle's breathing became ragged.
“My mother is Vanessa Carter. She raised me. She gave me everything!””
“I know.””
“Then why would you say something so disgusting?””
“Because I think you deserve to know the truth.””
She stepped closer.
“You're jealous. You've always been jealous. First you wanted to be a designer, now you want my family.””
I looked at her quietly.
“I never wanted your life, Brielle.””
“Then stay away from it!””
She turned toward the mirror.
Her hands were shaking.
I noticed something on the dressing table.
A small silver bracelet.
The same design as the one in the photograph.
I stared at it.
“Where did you get that?””
Brielle immediately picked it up.
“It's mine.””
“Was it yours when you were a baby?””
She went completely still.
Then she whispered something I hadn't expected.
“My mother told me never to ask about it.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
Brielle turned away.
“Get out.””
“Brielle—”
“GET OUT!””
I slowly backed toward the door.
But before I left, she spoke again.
Her voice was barely audible.
“Last year, I found an old photograph in Vanessa's bedroom. It showed a woman holding me. When I asked who she was, Vanessa told me she was a hospital nurse.””
I stopped.
“Did you believe her?””
Brielle looked at me through the mirror.
“No.””
For the first time in my life, my stepsister didn't look arrogant.
She looked frightened.
Then she picked up her phone.
“Don't tell anyone you spoke to me.””
I nodded.
But as I reached the hallway, I heard her whisper:
“Especially not my father.””
That evening, I found my father in his private office.
He was reviewing documents for the upcoming gala.
A framed photograph of him and Vanessa sat on his desk.
Behind it was a smaller photograph of Brielle as a toddler.
He didn't look up when I entered.
“You shouldn't be here.””
“I need to ask you something.””
“I'm busy.””
“Who was Camille Brooks?””
His pen stopped.
Slowly, he raised his head.
“Where did you hear that name?””
“My mother knew her.””
He stood.
“Get out.””
“Was she Brielle's mother?””
His face hardened.
“You have no idea what you're talking about.””
“Was she?””
He walked around the desk.
“Your mother had a habit of collecting other people's problems. That's how she destroyed her life.””
“Why did you lie to Brielle?””
He grabbed my arm.
“Listen to me very carefully. You will not involve Brielle in this.””
I pulled away.
“Why? Because she deserves the truth?””
“Because she has a future.””
“And I don't?””
His expression changed.
For a second, I saw something that looked almost like guilt.
Then Vanessa entered.
“What is happening?””
My father released my arm.
“Nia is asking questions about Camille.””
Vanessa's face went white.
She looked at me.
Then at Richard.
And finally, she said something that made me realize how dangerous the secret really was.
“Richard, you told me those records were destroyed.””
I stared at her.
My father slowly turned.
“Vanessa.””
May you like
But she had already said too much.
And I knew, without a doubt, that my mother hadn't been the only person they had tried to silence.
