Chapter 4 - The funeral for my father's security chief lasted eleven minutes.No speeches.
No reporters.
No cameras.
Just rain against black umbrellas.
I watched from the hospital.
The television showed distant images from the cemetery.
My father stood beside the grave.
He looked like a man who had already buried something far larger than one employee.
When he returned, I asked him the question I had been avoiding.
“Did he betray you?”
My father sat down.
“I don't know.”
“He had the stolen badge.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you defending him?”
“Because he protected you for nineteen years.”
I stared.
“Dad…”
“He was there when you were born.”
“He also knew the security system.”
My father nodded.
“Which means whoever planned this needed his access.”
I suddenly remembered something.
“Dad.”
He looked up.
“The night of the attack…”
“What?”
“The bracelet.”
“What about it?”
“Diego knew what it was.”
My father frowned.
“He shouldn't.”
“I never told him.”
Silence.
He picked up his phone.
“Someone told him.”
The investigation suddenly had a second direction.
Not toward Diego.
Toward whoever had taught him about the emergency system.
My father spent the next four hours calling security personnel.
Every access log was checked.
Every employee interviewed.
Every password changed.
Then, at 3:17 a.m., his chief analyst called.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We found an access attempt.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
My father stood.
“From where?”
“Your daughter's bracelet.”
My stomach twisted.
“How can someone access a medical device?”
The analyst hesitated.
“We don't think they did.”
“Then what?”
“They cloned it.”
I stared at my father.
Someone had created a digital copy of my medical identity.
My heart rate.
My location.
My health information.
Someone had been watching me.
Long before the attack.
“Can they disable it?”
“Yes.”
“Can they fake an emergency?”
“Yes.”
“Can they make it appear someone died?”
The analyst went silent.
My father's eyes sharpened.
“Answer me.”
“Yes.”
I felt a chill run through me.
The attack wasn't just physical.
It was technological.
Someone had built a system around me.
My pregnancy.
My health.
My location.
Everything.
Then my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
YOU SHOULD HAVE SIGNED.
I showed my father.
He stared at it.
“Don't answer.”
Another message appeared.
YOU STILL HAVE 48 HOURS.
Then another.
AFTER THAT, YOUR FATHER DIES.
My blood turned cold.
I looked at my father.
He smiled.
But it wasn't a reassuring smile.
It was the smile of a man who had just been handed a challenge.
“Let them come.”
“Dad…”
“They threatened the wrong family.”
That night, Detective Harris returned with a search warrant for my father's office.
I watched her from the hospital bed.
“Why?”
“Because we found an encrypted transfer from Sterling's internal network.”
“To whom?”
“An offshore account.”
“Connected to Diego?”
“No.”
“To Holloway?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
She showed me the account name.
SILVER CROWN TRUST.
My father went pale.
I had never seen him react to a company name before.
“What?”
He stared at the screen.
“That organization was dissolved twenty-two years ago.”
“Apparently not.”
Detective Harris placed another document on the table.
A corporate registry.
The trust had been reactivated six months earlier.
Its beneficiary?
My unborn child.
I stared at the page.
“What?”
My father looked at me.
“Your baby.”
The room became silent.
“Why would someone create a trust for my baby?”
Detective Harris answered.
“Because whoever controls that trust may gain control over your shares if you die.”
My father closed his eyes.
Everything suddenly fit.
The legal documents.
The forced signature.
The pregnancy.
The attack.
The offshore accounts.
The threats.
They weren't trying to steal my money after I died.
They were preparing to steal it through my child.
Then Detective Harris looked at me.
“There is one more problem.”
“What?”
“Someone applied for guardianship of your baby.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
She looked toward the door.
“Diego's mother.”
Brenna.
My mother-in-law.
She had been smiling throughout dinner.
She had watched Diego drag me outside.
And now she wanted legal control of my unborn child.
My father's voice became dangerously quiet.
“She'll never touch my grandson.”
Detective Harris corrected him.
“Granddaughter.”
My father stared.
“What?”
“The medical records indicate the baby is a girl.”
I touched my stomach.
A daughter.
My daughter.
And suddenly the whole conspiracy looked different.
They weren't just after me.
They were after the little girl inside me.
Then Detective Harris's phone rang.
She answered.
Her face slowly changed.
She looked at me.
“We just received confirmation.”
“Confirmation of what?”
She hesitated.
“Diego has been released.”
I stared at her.
“Released?”
“Bail.”
“Who paid it?”
Detective Harris looked at my father.
“The Silver Crown Trust.”
May you like
My father went completely still.
Because the money had come from the same trust created for my unborn daughter.
Related Stories
