Chapter 4 - The Company That Never ExistedThe company supposedly owned by me had been registered nine years earlier.
One month after my mother’s death.
Four years before I even knew what a corporate trust was.
Ethan’s private investigator found the records in under an hour.
“Mara Bennett Holdings,” he said.
“Who registered it?”
“Your mother.”
“That’s impossible.”
“She was already dead.”
The investigator looked uncomfortable.
“There’s more.”
He placed another folder on the table.
“Your mother didn’t die the way you were told.”
I stared at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“She was officially declared dead from a heart attack.”
“Officially?”
He nodded.
“But the medical report was altered.”
Ethan folded his arms.
“What was the original cause?”
The investigator hesitated.
“Poisoning.”
The room went silent.
My hands started shaking.
“My mother was murdered?”
“We believe so.”
I looked at Ethan.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I needed proof.”
I stood.
“I trusted what my family told me my entire life.”
Ethan’s voice softened.
“I know.”
I looked back at the file.
There were photographs.
My mother entering a bank.
My father beside her.
Daniel Hayes standing across the street.
Three people who had apparently known the truth.
Two dead.
One missing.
My father.
The investigator continued.
“Your father was last seen with Daniel Hayes.”
“When?”
“Twelve years ago.”
“That was before my mother died.”
“Yes.”
“So my father disappeared before she was murdered.”
“Yes.”
I felt dizzy.
“Then they were working together.”
Ethan shook his head.
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“My brother believed your father was trying to stop something.”
“Stop what?”
Ethan looked toward the window.
“The transfer.”
“Forty million?”
“No.”
He placed another document in front of me.
“This is only interest.”
I stared at him.
“Interest?”
“The principal was over six hundred million dollars.”
My mouth went dry.
“Six hundred million?”
Ethan nodded.
“And tomorrow, someone intends to move another forty million through your dead company.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then why is Gregory involved?”
Ethan’s eyes sharpened.
“Exactly.”
We went back to the restaurant.
Gregory was no longer there.
His office had been emptied.
Desk.
Computer.
Files.
Everything gone.
“He knew we were coming,” Ethan said.
I found a small envelope taped under the desk.
Inside was a key.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed my father.
Alive.
Standing beside a man I had never seen before.
On the back were three words.
Trust no Hayes.
I looked at Ethan.
His face was unreadable.
“Did my father hate your family?”
“No.”
“Then why would he write that?”
“He didn’t.”
Ethan pointed to the photograph.
“That handwriting belongs to my brother.”
My chest tightened.
“Your brother warned my father?”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
Ethan didn’t answer.
He turned the photograph over again.
There was a second message beneath the first.
THE TRAITOR IS INSIDE THE FAMILY.
I looked at Ethan.
His phone rang.
He answered.
His security chief spoke quickly.
Ethan’s expression darkened.
“What happened?”
A pause.
Then Ethan said:
“Do not let anyone leave.”
He hung up.
“What is it?”
He stared at me.
“One of my family members just transferred money from the account.”
“How much?”
“Forty million dollars.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who?”
Ethan hesitated.
Then he said a name.
A name I recognized.
Someone who had kissed my forehead at my mother’s funeral.
Someone who had hugged me and told me everything would be okay.
Someone I had trusted without question.
“Your mother’s sister.”
My aunt.
May you like
The woman who had raised me.
End of Chapter 4.
