PART 12 — THE FATHER WHO HID THE TRUTH
PART 12 — THE FATHER WHO HID THE TRUTH
The video disappeared.
The screen turned black.
But my mother's voice remained.
"You are the reason they found me."
Those words were impossible to forget.
I stood there holding my phone, unable to move.
The woman who raised me.
The woman whose smile I remembered from childhood.
The woman who taught me to believe in honesty.
Had just looked into a camera and accused my father.
The man who protected me.
The man who built an empire.
The man who always told me:
"No matter what happens, I will keep you safe."
My entire life suddenly felt like a story written by people who had hidden the ending from me.
I looked at my father.
"Is it true?"
He didn't answer.
That hurt more than a confession.
"Dad."
My voice became stronger.
"Is Mom right?"
The room was silent.
Dominic stood nearby.
For once, he didn't interrupt.
He knew this was not his story.
This was mine.
My father slowly sat down.
The powerful Alexander Laurent looked nothing like the man everyone feared.
He looked like someone who had finally run out of places to hide.
"I never wanted you to know this."
I shook my head.
"That is what everyone says."
My voice trembled.
"Nobody wants me to know anything."
My father closed his eyes.
"I made mistakes."
"No."
I stepped closer.
"You made choices."
The words hurt him.
Because they were true.
"A mistake is forgetting someone's birthday."
"A mistake is saying the wrong thing."
I looked directly at him.
"Choosing silence for years is not a mistake."
"It's a decision."
My father lowered his head.
After a long pause, he spoke.
"Your mother discovered something."
"What?"
"Something about the Carter family."
I frowned.
"That part I know."
"No."
He shook his head.
"Not the business."
"Not the money."
"The people."
The room became colder.
"She discovered someone inside our circle had been manipulating everything."
My heart tightened.
"Who?"
My father looked at the floor.
"I don't know."
The answer frustrated me.
"You don't know?"
"No."
He looked at me.
"Because the evidence disappeared."
"Your mother hid copies."
"She was preparing to expose them."
"Then she died."
I looked at the phone.
"The video."
My father nodded.
"She must have recorded it before she died."
"Why didn't you show me?"
His face changed.
"Because I didn't know about it."
I stared.
"Then how did Olivia get it?"
Nobody answered.
That was the question.
The missing piece.
The person who had access to my mother's final moments.
The person who knew where the video was hidden.
My father looked at the lawyer.
"Find out how she obtained it."
The lawyer nodded.
But I noticed something.
Dominic was unusually quiet.
Too quiet.
I turned toward him.
"What?"
He looked at me.
"I know something."
My stomach tightened.
"Of course you do."
The sentence hurt him.
But I didn't apologize.
Not anymore.
"What?"
Dominic took a breath.
"When Isabella came back..."
He paused.
"She wasn't only looking for money."
"What was she looking for?"
"The same thing Olivia is looking for."
"The evidence your mother hid."
My father stood immediately.
"Why would Isabella know?"
Dominic looked at him.
"Because her father told her."
Silence.
"The Whitmores knew about your mother's investigation."
My father clenched his jaw.
"And they knew where she was looking."
I looked between them.
"So everyone knew."
My voice became bitter.
"Everyone knew my mother was searching for something."
"Everyone knew she was in danger."
"And nobody told me."
Nobody responded.
Because there was nothing they could say.
Then Dominic spoke.
"There is something else."
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Another secret.
"What now?"
His expression was painful.
"The night your mother died..."
He swallowed.
"I was there."
The room froze.
My father's head snapped toward him.
"What?"
I looked at Dominic.
"You were there?"
He nodded slowly.
"I didn't see everything."
"But I saw someone leave the house."
My heart raced.
"Who?"
Dominic hesitated.
That hesitation terrified me.
"Dominic."
He looked at me.
"It was someone from the Laurent family."
The words hit like ice.
My father stepped forward.
"Who?"
Dominic looked at him.
"I don't know."
My patience broke.
"Nobody knows anything!"
My voice echoed through the empty ballroom.
"Everyone has pieces."
"Everyone has secrets."
"But somehow, I am always the last person to find out."
I turned away.
My hand moved over my stomach.
My baby.
The only person in this entire story who had never lied to me.
At least not yet.
My phone suddenly rang.
Unknown number.
Again.
Everyone became alert.
I answered.
No one spoke.
Then a voice.
An older woman.
Calm.
Familiar.
"Vivienne."
My body froze.
Because I knew that voice.
I had heard it many times.
At family dinners.
At holidays.
At the Carter mansion.
"Eleanor?"
My father immediately reached for the phone.
I stopped him.
"No."
I wanted to hear.
Eleanor laughed softly.
"So you finally know."
My jaw tightened.
"Know what?"
"The truth."
"You think you know everything because you found some videos and documents."
Her voice became colder.
"But you still don't understand."
"Understand what?"
A pause.
Then she said:
"Your mother did not die because she discovered a secret."
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"She died because she discovered who was protecting that secret."
Silence.
My heart pounded.
"What does that mean?"
Eleanor continued.
"Ask your father why he deleted the first investigation report."
My father went pale.
I looked at him.
"What report?"
Eleanor laughed.
"Ask him."
Then the call ended.
I slowly lowered the phone.
Everyone looked at my father.
"Did you delete a report?"
He didn't answer.
And this time...
I didn't need him to.
Because his silence had become the loudest confession in the room.
"Dad."
His eyes filled with regret.
"There was a report."
"What was in it?"
He looked at me.
"It named a suspect."
My breathing stopped.
"Who?"
A long pause.
Then he whispered:
"The person who was closest to your mother."
My heart sank.
"Who?"
My father looked toward Dominic.
Then toward me.
And said the words that changed everything.
"The suspect was..."
He stopped.
His voice barely came out.
"Your mother herself."
The room froze.
"What?"
My father looked broken.
"Vivienne..."
"No."
I shook my head.
"No."
Because there was no way.
My mother.
The woman who loved me.
The woman who protected me.
The woman who wrote that letter.
Could be connected to her own death?
My father continued.
"The report wasn't saying she caused it."
"It was saying..."
He swallowed.
"She knew she was going to die."
I stared.
"She knew?"
He nodded.
"She predicted it."
My heart slowed.
Then my father said:
"She wrote one final note."
"Before she died."
I whispered:
"Where is it?"
My father looked at me.
"I destroyed it."
The room went silent.
My eyes widened.
"You destroyed my mother's last message?"
His tears appeared.
"Because she wrote one name."
I held my breath.
"Whose?"
My father looked at me.
And whispered:
"Yours."
The world stopped.
"My name?"
He nodded.
"She wrote..."
"The danger is not coming for Vivienne."
"The danger has always been inside her."
I stepped back.
Because suddenly...
May you like
The biggest mystery was no longer who wanted to hurt me.
It was why my own mother believed I was connected to it.
