She traced the rim of her ss with her finger. "Quennel, is there something you want to say?"


    He frowned, looking down at his drink. "There is," he admitted, "but I don''t know how to say it." He took a deep breath and met her eyes. "I heard about your kidnapping."


    Hannah''s hand trembled, nearly spilling her drink.


    "They caught the kidnappers, and they confessed that Zona was behind it. I had my people track her down. They found herst night."


    Hannah''s hands went numb. She sped them together under the table, forcing herself to breathe. "Did she say why she did it?" She and Zona had barely spoken five times. There was no reason for her to do this unless someone had put her up to it. Mary?


    "Are you sure you want to know?" Quennel''s voice was grave.


    She nodded without hesitation.


    "It was Lionel. He was the one who told her to do it."


    The world seemed to stop. Hannah felt as if she had been thrown into a bottomless abyss, a wave of cold dread washing over her. Her lips trembled, but no sound came out. She struggled to breathe.


    After what felt like an eternity, she finally managed to move. She picked up her


    ss and downed the contents in one gulp, her hand shaking so violently that she spilled alcohol all over the table as she tried to refill it.


    Quennel reached out and took the ss from her.


    "Quennel... is this..." Hannah''s voice broke, tears welling in her eyes. "Is this true?"


    "Have I ever lied to you?"


    A single tear rolled down her cheek. "No wonder," she whispered. "No wonder when I asked him about the investigation, all he said was that they had caught them. It was him..."


    It was all part of his n. He had left just moments before she was taken. He hadn''t cared when she told him she was about to be assaulted. He had been evasive when she asked about the investigation. The truth was more brutal th she could have ever imagined. If it weren''t for Yves and Quennel, she would have been kept in the dark forever.


    "Hannah,” Quennel said, handing her a tissue.


    She took it her body wracked with silent sobs. She still couldn''t understand why. She had agreed to the divorce. She was ready to step aside. Why would he do this to her? What had she done to deserve this?


    Quennel watched her cry, saying nothing as he quietly sipped his drink.


    Late that night, a drunk and heartbroken Hannah stumbled out of the car, supported by Quennel.


    "I don''t understand, Quennel," she sobbed. "Why would he do this to me? What did I do wrong?"


    "You did nothing wrong, Hannah. He''s the one who''s wrong."


    "You''re right. It''s all his fault."


    Lionel was at the front desk arranging for a room when he heard a familiar voice. He turned just inso time to see a face he knew all too well disappear into the elevator, an all-too-familiar woman nestled in his arms.