Chapter 9 - The Trial of October
The rain was falling heavily over Manhattan as my cab pulled up to the entrance of the Langum Tower.
I didn't call Richard. I didn't warn his secretary. I walked straight past the front desk guards, who bowed respectfully to the future Mrs. Langum, and took the private executive elevator directly to the eighty-fourth floor.
My heart was beating frantically against my ribs. The handwritten note from Tristan was clutched tightly inside my coat pocket.
When the elevator doors slid open, I pushed through the double mahogany doors of Richard’s private office without knocking.
Richard was sitting behind his desk, reviewing shipping manifests on his computer terminal. He looked up, his sharp eyes instantly softening when he saw me standing in the doorway.
"Daphne?" he said, standing up from his desk, a warm smile spreading across his face. "What are you doing here, my sweet? I thought you were with Sloan at the bridal atelier—"
"Who funded the Octagon Medical Trial four years ago, Richard?" I interrupted, my voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desperation.
Richard froze. His smile vanished, replaced by an unreadable, rigid stillness that made the air in the room suddenly turn cold.
"Where did you hear that name?" Richard asked softly, his voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet tone.
I pulled the note from my coat pocket and threw it onto his mahogany desk. "Tristan sent this to my dress fitting. He says you funded the experimental trial that killed my father. He says you put him in the ground!"
Richard didn't pick up the note. He looked down at the paper, then raised his slate-gray eyes to meet mine. There was no panic in his face—only a profound, crushing sorrow that made my chest ache.
"Tristan is telling half a truth, Daphne," Richard said quietly.
My heart shattered into a thousand pieces. "So it's true..." I gasped out, stepping back toward the door, tears spilling down my cheeks. "You... you killed my father?"
"Listen to me!" Richard commanded, his voice echoing across the grand office like thunder as he rounded the desk, catching my wrists before I could run out the door.
"Let me go!" I sobbed, struggling against his iron grip. "You lied to me! You used me!"
"I didn't kill Arthur!" Richard shouted, pulling me firmly against his chest, holding my face between his broad hands so I was forced to look into his dark, sorrowful eyes. "Arthur was already dying, Daphne! The cancer had spread to his spine! The doctors gave him three weeks to live!"
I stopped struggling, my breath hitching in my throat as I stared at him.
"Arthur didn't want you to watch him deteriorate into a hollow shadow of himself," Richard explained, his voice shaking with rare, raw emotion. "He came to me in secret. He asked me to fund the Octagon Trial because it was the only experimental therapy that had a five percent chance of saving his life. I spent thirty million dollars bringing the world's top oncologists to New York in twenty-four hours."
Tears streamed down Richard’s face—the first time I had ever seen this invincible man cry.
"The trial failed," Richard whispered, his thumb lightly stroking my cheek. "His body was too weak to handle the dosage. He passed away peacefully in his sleep that night, holding my hand. His last words to me were: 'Thank you for trying, Richard. Now go save my daughter.'"
I stared at him, my mind reeling as the horrifying lie Tristan had spun dissolved into the agonizing, beautiful truth of Richard’s love for my father.
"Tristan found the financial records of the Octagon funding in his father's stolen legal files," Richard added softly. "He twisted it to destroy your trust in me because he knew it was the only weapon he had left."
I collapsed against Richard’s chest, my arms wrapping tightly around his waist, sobbing uncontrollably into his cashmere sweater as the weight of my doubt evaporated into the air.
"I'm sorry..." I wept. "I'm so sorry I doubted you, Richard..."
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Richard wrapped his heavy arms around me, holding me close, his lips pressed firmly against the top of my head.
"You don't ever have to apologize to me, my sweet," Richard murmured into my hair. "I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that your trust is safe in my hands."
