The Ring That Sank, The Love That Drowned Chapter 03
The next morning, a Vaughn car pulled up outside the Sinclair home.
Spencer came inside carrying a prepared statement.
He didn’t ask whether my fever had broken. He simply set the document on the coffee table.
“Sign it.”
My mother was holding my medicine in a small porcelain cup, the spoon clicking sharply against the rim.
“Spencer, Natalie’s fever hit 102°F last night. Can’t this wait until she’s feeling a little better?”
His tone remained even.
“Mrs. Sinclair, this can’t wait. The joint project between Sinclair Group and Vaughn Group is still pending approval, and I don’t want this continuing to spiral online.”
I picked up the statement.
[Last night’s lake challenge was a planned part of the proposal and was agreed to by both parties. I left early because I wasn’t feeling well. Mr. Vaughn was considerate throughout. Vivian Hale attended only as an invited guest. Please refrain from baseless speculation.]
I couldn’t even laugh.
“And I’m supposed to clear her name too?”
Spencer looked at me.
“She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“What about me?”
He paused.
“You never went into the lake.”
So apparently, that meant I wasn’t innocent.
Because I hadn’t followed their script far enough to nearly get myself killed, I had somehow become the one who ruined everything.
A soft knock came from the door.
Vivian walked in carrying a gift box.
She was dressed simply that day, her eyes red as though she hadn’t slept all night.
“Natalie, I came to apologize.”
Inside the box was a silk scarf I recognized—the same one she had worn against the wind the night before.
She was giving me something she had already used and expecting me to be grateful for it.
“I only wore it once. With your fair complexion, it’ll look much better on you than it did on me.”
Spencer looked at her, his voice softening.
“You’re not well. Why did you come all the way over here?”
Vivian shook her head.
“Natalie misunderstood me. I felt awful about it.”
My mother’s hand tightened around the porcelain cup and stayed there.
Sinclair Group’s payroll for the month was still sitting on her desk.
If Vaughn Group pulled its $400 million investment from the project, hundreds of jobs would be at risk.
In my previous life, this was the kind of silence that always made me give in.
Every time the Vaughns stripped away another piece of my dignity, I told myself my family still had to survive.
Spencer pushed a pen toward me.
“Sign it, and I’ll send a doctor over to check on you.”
He could drive the knife in, then hand me a bandage and expect me to mistake it for kindness.
I picked up the pen.
My mother’s eyes were red as she closed a hand around my wrist.
I gently patted her hand.
“It’s okay.”
I signed my name—Natalie Sinclair.
As the pen moved across the page, it felt like I was signing the ten-year sentence I had already served in my previous life.
Spencer picked up the statement, some of the tension leaving his face.
“Come to the Vaughn family dinner tonight. My grandmother wants to see you.”
I looked at him.
“As what, exactly?”
His brows drew together.
“Natalie, stop pushing me to say something cruel.”
I understood.
I wasn’t his fiancée.
I wasn’t the future Mrs. Vaughn.
I was just someone expected to take the heat for Vivian and help the Vaughns shut down the rumors.
“Okay.”
Spencer finally seemed satisfied and turned to leave.
Vivian lingered behind.
She bent down, placed the scarf across my knees, and lowered her voice until only I could hear.
“Natalie, so what if you resent it? You may be able to swallow the humiliation, but can your family survive bankruptcy?”
I pressed my fingertips against the scarf.
I didn’t tear it.
I didn’t throw it away.
I only looked at her.
The smile slowly disappeared from her face.
I hadn’t reacted the way I had in my previous life. I hadn’t confronted her with red-rimmed eyes.
Instead, I quietly filed away every word she had just said, along with the tiny red recording light on the security camera in the corner of the living room.
When my mother saw me out, she slipped an old manila envelope into the inside pocket of my coat.
Her voice was quiet.
“Natalie, if all the Vaughns do tonight is snub you, get through the evening. But if they try to make you kneel, you don’t owe them any grace.”
I touched the envelope through my coat but didn’t ask what was inside.
In my previous life, I had never dared tell her that the Vaughns had forced me to apologize. I had only told her the family dinner went fine.
That was why I hadn’t seen this old manila envelope until she was on her deathbed.
This time, it had come into my hands early.