His Other Wife (A Stella Fall Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book One)

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE

Staring out of the window as the airplane descended, Stella watched Connecticut appear through the light bank of cloud. She felt a sense of disbelief that she was already on a journey to a different life.

What madness the past week had been. She’d canceled the lease on her apartment, packed up her clothes, and sold her few items of furniture, as she’d be living with Vaughn in his cottage, which he’d said was fully furnished.

She’d spent hours composing the email declining the job offer and had felt bitter disappointment when she’d finally pressed send.

That was to be expected. Of course, making choices would come with regrets. As soon as she was settled, she’d resume her job hunt. New York City was full of law firms and jury consultancies. Hopefully some of them would be looking for keen juniors. She’d even scouted out a few possibilities during the flight.

Despite these positive thoughts, she felt worried things were moving too fast.

A week ago, she’d never have dreamed that she’d be heading to her new home city, wearing an engagement ring.

Glancing down at the ring, she ran her fingertips over the smooth platinum band and the raised setting of the diamond. Its delicate beauty helped to reassure her fears. This ring emphasized the reality of Vaughn’s love for her and his commitment to their new life together. It was the most stunning piece of jewelry she’d ever owned. She had promised herself she would never take it off.

Vaughn opened his eyes as the plane touched down.

“We’ve landed already?” he said in surprise.

“Yes, sleepyhead,” Stella teased.

“Sleepyhead?” Vaughn laughed in fake outrage. “I wasn’t snoozing. I was planning our weekend. We need to explore your new ‘hood. The ‘Art to the Avenue’ Festival is on this month, so we could take a walk down Greenwich Avenue this afternoon and see the artworks in the store windows. They have musicians and street performers, too. Maybe we can have dinner at a restaurant.”

“Sounds good,” Stella said, feeling excited about getting to know her new home city.

“Tomorrow we could go see Putnam Cottage – it’s a famous landmark in the Putnam Hill Historic District. And take a sunset walk at Greenwich Point Park, which has the most beautiful beach.”

“It’ll be like a mini vacation,” Stella enthused. Then, as her nerves descended again, she remembered that this was no vacation, but the start of a whole new life, and in a short while she would be introduced to his family for the very first time. “Who’s meeting us?” she asked.

Vaughn checked his phone. “Rodriguez,” he said.

“Rodriguez?” Vaughn hadn’t mentioned him before. The name was unfamiliar to her. “Who’s he?”

“He’s one of our family’s drivers. I don’t know him. He was hired while I was away, replacing Nelson, who left.”

“Oh.” Stella felt taken aback by this information. One of the drivers? It sounded like they were full-time personal employees. She’d always thought the drivers Vaughn had occasionally mentioned, belonged to one of the Marshalls’ businesses, but realized now she was wrong. “How many are there?” she asked.

“We have three,” Vaughn replied. “Two full-time, one weekends only.”

For a family of six? That sounded like a lot, Stella thought in surprise. At least being picked up by a driver would give her more time to prepare for when she met the Marshalls. She wanted to plan ahead so that she could be ready to field any questions, as well as correct any wrong assumptions they might have made about her.

She quickly gathered her possessions together. They stood up from their front-row seat and headed into the airport.

*

As Vaughn wheeled the loaded baggage cart to the exit, Stella scanned the waiting faces. There was a man, in a dark green jacket and gray pants, holding a printed card.

“Vaughn Marshall”

He took the cart and they followed him out of the terminal to the parking lot.

“Mom says we must come around as soon as we arrive,” Vaughn said, checking his phone.

“I can’t wait to meet your family,” Stella enthused, even though she felt a flutter of nerves at the prospect.

“They’re looking forward to meeting you, too. Nobody thought I’d leave for work experience and meet the love of my life. I think they all assumed I’d marry someone from the neighborhood.” He laughed.

“You’ve never been conventional,” Stella said. Coming from her to him, it was praise. But she felt anxious that, to his family, it could be seen as a defiant move.

They might believe she had pressured him into marriage, or even that she was a gold-digger. That was a humiliating thought, but Stella knew she had to confront the possibility, and address it. She needed to make sure that this high-powered family knew what her own goals and ambitions were.

The driver unlocked a massive, jet-black Range Rover. He opened the trunk and stowed the luggage away. Then he opened the rear passenger door for Stella.

She’d been about to open it herself and they almost collided. Stepping hastily back, she let him do his job. Then, feeling self-conscious, she climbed into the plush, leather-scented space.

“Oh, no. I have to go into work tomorrow to prepare,” Vaughn said, checking his messages again. “On a Sunday? No rest for the wicked. I’m sorry, babes. We’ll have to postpone the trip to the historic district. Hopefully I’ll back in time for the sunset beach walk.”

“I guess they need you to be ready to go by Monday,” Stella agreed, disappointed that their sightseeing day would have to wait.

However, this reminded her that his family clearly had a high work ethic, and she was determined to prove that she possessed the same qualities. That she was driven to succeed, ready to dedicate herself to a career, just as her father had been.

Her father had been a detective, heading up the investigation unit at the local precinct in the small Kansas town where they’d lived. Thinking back to the last time she saw him as he headed out to work, Stella felt a sense of emptiness and loss all over again. She hoped that if he was alive, he would be proud of where she was now, and how far she’d come.

“We’re nearly there.” Vaughn’s words interrupted her thoughts and she focused on her surroundings again.

Staring in fascination, Stella saw the neighborhood they were driving through was immaculate, and clearly very wealthy. Huge gates, magnificent trees, perfectly maintained sidewalks. She noticed a few people at work in the gardens as they passed. And beyond, set far from the road, the houses themselves were architectural showpieces.

The farmhouse that she had grown up in had been small and shabby, with dusty windows looking out over golden-brown fields, and warped wooden floorboards that creaked at night. The dirt driveway was a dustbowl most of the year and then turned into a riverbed when it rained. Town had been a few miles away, but even the fanciest houses there were simple and basic in comparison to these wedding-cake creations.

This view felt unsettling to her, like driving through a weird, showpiece neighborhood where nobody real actually lived.

But they did. And now, so would she.

“Here we are.”

As Stella was rubbernecking the astonishing homes they were passing, the Range Rover stopped outside a massive, wrought-iron gate. A moment later it swung open.

The paved driveway was lined with perfectly kept flower beds. At its end, she spied a three-story building that from a distance, looked more like a palace than a family home.

She laughed, hearing a hint of unease in her own voice.

“Come on. Are you joking? This is a mansion. You said you lived in a cottage. Are we meeting your family first, or what?”

“My cottage is on the family’s estate,” Vaughn explained. “I told you I stayed walking distance from my parents. The cottage is hidden away in the gardens. It’s very private,” he added anxiously.

“Oh.” She’d never realized that. For some reason, living on the same property as Vaughn’s parents made her uncomfortable, but she suppressed the feeling. After all, it seemed to be an enormous place with plenty of room for privacy. A cottage on an estate was the same distance as being down the road in a normal suburb, she reassured herself.

As the family home loomed ahead, she took it in. It was magnificent. The porch was lined with tall, bright white pillars and the front door was an enormous, ornately carved slab of wood. Gracious copper beech trees flanked the building.

“Everything looks the same,” Vaughn said, sounding surprised. “Greener than when I left, but otherwise the same.”

“Did you expect it to be different?” Stella asked.

Vaughn nodded thoughtfully. “Yes. I thought it would have changed. But I think it’s me that’s changed. I’ve never been away from home for so long. I feel I’ve grown as a person now. I’m different than I was when I left. And, of course, you’re in my life now. You’re such a positive force for good.”

“Well, I feel like I’m in a dream. I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this level of grandeur. I’m a little out of my comfort zone so I’ll need your support,” she shared with a nervous laugh.

“You have it, babes. And you deserve to live in luxury, after staying in that ghetto for years.”

There was a disparaging note in Vaughn’s voice she’d never heard before.

Surprised, she glanced at him, but he was grinning at her teasingly. She felt relieved that she’d just misunderstood his joke, that was all.

“Uh-oh,” Vaughn said, as the mansion’s front door opened. “Looks like the family is already waiting. We’d better stop and say hi.” He raised his voice, addressing the driver. “Can you drop the bags at the cottage? We’ll head there afterwards.”

Swallowing down her nerves, Stella climbed out. He took her hand and they walked together up the immaculately paved pathway that led into the shade of the stately front porch. She hoped this introduction would go well and they would like her. First impressions counted, so her future relationship with the family could hinge on this moment.

In the doorway stood a slim woman with a smooth halo of platinum-blonde hair. Her skin was ageless, like silk, and it was more her authoritative bearing that clued Stella in that this was, in fact, Vaughn’s mother.

“Mom!” A moment later, Vaughn confirmed this, enveloping the petite, stylish woman in a giant embrace.

“It’s wonderful to see you again! We’ve missed you! You need a haircut.” After reaching up to give Vaughn’s cheek an affectionate pinch, and brushing his unruly bangs aside, Mrs. Marshall turned to Stella.

Stella felt alarmed to see that her attractively smooth face had grown stern, and her blue eyes were icy. She regarded her for a long moment, without saying a word.

Even though Vaughn had reassured her again and again that his family would love her, and that her poor background wouldn’t matter at all, Stella felt differently now. She sensed, with a cold certainty, that Vaughn’s mother disapproved of her.