Chapter 3 - THE SECRET IN THE BASEMENTMy father ordered everyone out of the house except his investigators.
Kyle was taken to the study.
Thalia was escorted into another room.
I remained upstairs.
But I couldn't stop thinking about the recording.
We don't need her alive.
Those words kept repeating in my head.
I had spent three years believing my marriage had failed.
The truth was worse.
My marriage had been a trap.
I waited until the house became quiet.
Then I went downstairs.
Mercer was standing near the basement door.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“I need to see the server.”
He studied me.
“You heard something.”
I said nothing.
He sighed.
“Your father won't like this.”
“My father doesn't have to know everything.”
Mercer almost smiled.
“That sentence sounds exactly like him.”
We entered the basement.
The room smelled of dust and cold metal.
Behind a false wall sat a black server tower.
Mercer opened it.
Folders appeared across the monitor.
“Years of data,” he said.
“What kind?”
“Everything.”
He clicked one folder.
Bank transfers.
Another.
Shell companies.
Another.
Political donations.
Another.
Blackmail files.
My stomach tightened.
“Kyle was involved in all this?”
Mercer shook his head.
“Not alone.”
He opened a corporate ownership chart.
Whitmore Holdings sat near the center.
Several companies surrounded it.
But there was one name at the top.
NORTHSTAR CAPITAL.
I frowned.
“Who owns it?”
Mercer looked at me.
“We don't know.”
“What?”
“The company has no visible owner.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Not in this world.”
He clicked another file.
A list of people appeared.
Executives.
Politicians.
Bankers.
Judges.
Then I saw one name.
My breath caught.
Victor Calder.
I looked at Mercer.
“My father?”
He remained silent.
My heart raced.
“You said Northstar was connected to Whitmore.”
“Yes.”
“Why is my father's name here?”
“Because someone forged the document.”
“How do you know?”
“Your father did not sign it.”
He opened another file.
The signature matched perfectly.
Except one tiny difference.
The pen stroke.
“He would never make that mistake.”
I stared.
“So someone is framing him.”
Mercer nodded.
“Or someone inside his organization is.”
I suddenly remembered the memory card.
“There's more.”
I handed it to him.
He inserted it.
The recording played.
Kyle's voice filled the room.
Mercer's expression changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“My bedroom.”
He replayed the section about the Calder shares.
Mercer paused the recording.
“There's something missing.”
“What?”
“Who were they talking about?”
“They said they didn't need me alive.”
“No.”
He pointed toward the audio waveform.
“This recording was edited.”
“What?”
“There's a missing segment.”
He restored a deleted fragment.
Static filled the room.
Then a distorted voice appeared.
“You're sure the father will blame Kyle?”
Thalia answered.
“He will.”
The distorted voice spoke again.
“And when Isabella discovers who her real father is…”
The recording cut off.
Mercer looked at me.
“Your real father?”
I froze.
“What does that mean?”
He didn't answer.
My phone rang.
My father.
I answered.
“Bella.”
“Dad.”
He heard the tension in my voice.
“What did you find?”
I looked at Mercer.
He shook his head.
“Nothing.”
Silence.
“You're lying.”
My stomach dropped.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you're my daughter.”
I closed my eyes.
“Dad, I found a recording.”
He didn't speak.
“Kyle and Thalia were discussing me.”
Still silence.
“They wanted me dead.”
My father's voice became very quiet.
“I know.”
I froze.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
My hand trembled.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because whoever arranged it has been hunting our family for twenty-two years.”
I stared at the wall.
“What does that mean?”
“Come to my office.”
“Tonight?”
“Now.”
The call ended.
Mercer looked at me.
“Do you trust your father?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Then go.”
I left the basement.
Outside, Kyle was being escorted toward a waiting vehicle.
He looked at me.
Our eyes met.
He suddenly shouted.
“Isabella!”
I stopped.
“You don't understand!”
I said nothing.
“You think Victor Calder is protecting you?”
Kyle laughed bitterly.
“He's hiding something.”
My father stepped into view.
“Kyle.”
Kyle looked at him.
For the first time, I saw hatred in my husband's eyes.
“You took everything from me.”
My father replied:
“No.”
He glanced at me.
“You handed it to me.”
Kyle was placed inside the vehicle.
As it drove away, I turned to my father.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
“Tell me the truth.”
He nodded.
“I will.”
I waited.
He took a long breath.
“You were not raised to be a Calder.”
I frowned.
“What?”
He opened the passenger door.
“Get in.”
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
“Because before you can understand what Kyle tried to steal…”
His face hardened.
“…you need to know what someone else stole from our family twenty-two years ago.”
I entered the car.
The doors locked.
May you like
Then my father said four words that changed everything.
“Your mother wasn't murdered.”
