Chapter 7 - The Man My Family HidDaniel Crowe had been living less than two miles from my parents' house.
Under a false name.
Using a rented apartment.
The police found him after tracing a payment from the shell company.
He was detained before he could leave.
When I saw him across the interrogation room, I felt strangely numb.
He looked older than I remembered.
Gray hair.
Tired eyes.
A scar beneath his jaw.
But his gaze was sharp.
He studied me for several seconds.
Then smiled faintly.
“You're Natalie.”
“Yes.”
“I've heard a lot about you.”
“I've heard nothing about you except that you destroyed my father's company.”
Daniel laughed.
“Your father told you that?”
“Yes.”
“He lied.”
That word followed me everywhere now.
Lied.
Lied.
Lied.
I sat down.
“What happened?”
Daniel folded his hands.
“Your father didn't lose his company.”
I stared.
“He sold it.”
My heart skipped.
“To whom?”
“To people he thought would save him.”
“Why?”
“Debt.”
I knew about the debt.
Or what I had been told.
But Daniel shook his head.
“Your father borrowed money to expand too quickly.”
“He said the bank caused the collapse.”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
Daniel looked at me.
“He forged invoices.”
My face went cold.
“What?”
“He created contracts that didn't exist.”
“With my work?”
“Not at first.”
Daniel paused.
Then he said,
“You were the opportunity.”
I hated that word.
Opportunity.
As though my career had been a doorway they simply chose to walk through.
Daniel explained the scheme.
My father used shell companies to move money.
Blake used my technical designs and professional identity to make fabricated projects appear credible.
Different companies transferred funds.
Some were legitimate.
Others were fronts.
Money moved through all of them.
And the debt remained.
“So why was I paying the mortgage?”
Daniel looked away.
“Because your father used your payments to cover the holes.”
I clenched my fists.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
He looked at me.
“Because I was protecting myself.”
The answer was brutally honest.
I could almost respect it.
Almost.
“Who else was involved?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Your mother.”
I closed my eyes.
“I know.”
“No,” he said.
“You don't.”
I opened my eyes.
“What don't I know?”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Your mother did more than open the account.”
He slid a folder through the opening beneath the glass.
I picked it up.
Inside were copies of emails.
My mother's name appeared repeatedly.
She had monitored my income.
Tracked client payments.
Recorded when I received large contracts.
Requested account transfers.
She had even contacted one of my clients pretending to be my assistant.
I stared.
“She contacted my clients?”
“Yes.”
“For money?”
“In some cases.”
My hands were shaking.
“Why would she do this?”
Daniel answered,
“Because your father convinced her that you owed the family.”
I felt something crack inside me.
Owed them.
That was the phrase.
For years, every sacrifice had somehow become an obligation.
I wasn't their daughter.
I was a debt account with a heartbeat.
I flipped through the pages.
Then one document stopped me.
A contract.
A private agreement between Blake and Daniel.
It stated that Blake would receive a percentage of all revenue generated from designs attributed to him.
At the bottom was Blake's signature.
And a second signature.
My father's.
I stared.
“What about Mom?”
Daniel said,
“She signed later.”
“Why?”
“She wanted protection.”
“From whom?”
Daniel looked directly at me.
“From Blake.”
I frowned.
“What?”
Daniel explained that Blake had become increasingly ambitious.
He wanted more money.
More control.
He had started threatening to expose the family if they cut him out.
“And that's why they threw me out?”
Daniel nodded.
“They needed you gone.”
“Because I was asking questions.”
“Because you were becoming independent.”
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“Your career.”
I waited.
“Your income was increasing.”
I remembered the last year.
My projects had become larger.
My rates had increased.
I had started building a real reputation.
Daniel continued.
“They realized something.”
“What?”
“That one day you wouldn't need them.”
I stared.
The answer was so simple it hurt.
They needed me dependent on them.
Because once I understood my value, their leverage disappeared.
Daniel sat back.
“There is one more thing.”
I almost laughed.
“There always is.”
He smiled sadly.
“Your grandmother.”
My body went rigid.
“What about Grandma Rose?”
“She knew.”
“Knew what?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“She knew what your father was doing.”
I felt the room shift.
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Then why didn't she tell me?”
Daniel looked away.
“Because she tried.”
My heart pounded.
“She tried?”
He nodded.
“Your father stopped her.”
“How?”
“She threatened to expose him.”
“What happened?”
Daniel looked at me.
“She was about to leave town and take you with her.”
I froze.
“Why?”
“Because she believed you were in danger.”
I stared at him.
“My grandmother never said that.”
“She couldn't.”
“Why?”
Daniel's eyes darkened.
“Because your father took her documents.”
“What documents?”
He paused.
Then gave me the answer.
“Evidence.”
I barely whispered,
“Where is it?”
Daniel leaned back.
“We never found it.”
I stared.
“Never?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know it existed?”
Daniel smiled faintly.
“Because your grandmother told me where she hid it.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Where?”
Daniel looked toward the door.
May you like
Then back at me.
“She said it was somewhere only you would know.”
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