Chapter 3 - I hadn't opened my university email in years.It had been created when I was nineteen.
Back when my biggest problem was passing exams and figuring out how to afford textbooks.
Back when Mason was still just a charming stranger who smiled at me in the library.
I couldn't understand why someone would tell me to look there.
Dominic watched me type the password.
“Do you remember anything unusual?”
“No.”
The inbox loaded.
Thousands of messages.
Mostly advertisements.
Class notices.
Old assignments.
I searched for Mason's name.
Nothing.
Then I searched for Raven Holdings.
One result.
My chest tightened.
The message was dated seven years ago.
Sender unknown.
Subject:
CONFIRMATION OF BENEFICIAL INTEREST
I opened it.
The body contained one sentence.
The attached documentation confirms Claire Bennett as the designated beneficiary.
I stared.
“I don't understand.”
Dominic reached for the mouse.
“Open the attachment.”
There was a PDF.
Protected by a password.
I tried my birthday.
Wrong.
Mason's birthday.
Wrong.
My mother's birthday.
Wrong.
Dominic looked at me.
“Think.”
I remembered something.
A date from my childhood.
June 17.
The day my father died.
I typed it.
The document opened.
My stomach turned.
There was a legal trust.
An account.
A signature.
My father's name.
But he had never mentioned a trust.
I scrolled.
The document stated that I had been named beneficiary of an investment portfolio worth approximately $3.2 million.
Three million dollars.
I almost laughed.
It had to be fake.
My father had worked as an accountant.
He had left my mother a small house and some savings.
Not millions.
Dominic read the document.
“This is real.”
“No.”
Victor looked over his shoulder.
“The law firm listed here still exists.”
Dominic nodded.
“Call them.”
Victor took out his phone.
I stared at my father's signature.
I remembered him.
The smell of coffee.
His old watch.
The way he always said money was only valuable when it protected people.
He had never told me about three million dollars.
Dominic noticed my silence.
“Was your father involved in anything unusual?”
“No.”
“Business?”
“He was an accountant.”
“Clients?”
“Hundreds.”
“Any dangerous ones?”
“I don't know.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Your father may have known exactly who Mason was.”
I felt a chill.
“Mason met my father once.”
“When?”
“Five years ago.”
“Where?”
“At my mother's house.”
“What happened?”
“My father and Mason argued.”
“About?”
“I don't know.”
Dominic stared.
“You never asked?”
“My father died three weeks later.”
Silence settled over the room.
Victor returned.
“The law firm confirmed the trust.”
I looked up.
“What did they say?”
“They said your father instructed them never to contact you directly unless a specific condition was triggered.”
“What condition?”
Victor hesitated.
“Your marriage to Mason.”
My heart stopped.
“No.”
Dominic's expression sharpened.
“Read the trust again.”
Victor placed the document in front of me.
I followed the clause.
Upon Claire Bennett entering a legally recognized marriage with Mason Reed, the trust would be frozen and transferred to a secondary protective account.
I stared at Dominic.
“We never got married.”
“Exactly.”
“Then why would my marriage matter?”
Dominic's phone rang.
He answered.
“Costantini.”
A woman's voice came through.
His face changed.
“What?”
He stood.
“Send everything.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” I asked.
“One of my investigators found the missing piece.”
“What missing piece?”
Dominic looked at me.
“The trust wasn't created for you.”
My stomach dropped.
“It was created for someone else.”
“Who?”
He turned the laptop around.
There was another name.
Claire Bennett Reed.
I frowned.
“I've never used that name.”
“You didn't.”
Dominic pointed to the date.
Seven years ago.
A legal document had already been prepared using my married surname.
Years before I'd ever met Mason.
“That means…”
“Yes.”
Dominic's voice was very quiet.
“Someone expected you to marry Mason.”
I stepped away from the desk.
“This is impossible.”
“No.”
Dominic looked directly at me.
“It's deliberate.”
I remembered Mason.
The first day we met.
The strange ease with which he had approached me.
The way he knew where I studied.
The way he remembered my coffee order after only one meeting.
The way he seemed to know everything about my family.
I had called it romance.
What if it had been research?
My phone vibrated.
Another unknown message.
DON'T TRUST DOMINIC.
A second message appeared.
HE KNOWS WHY YOUR FATHER DIED.
I stared at the screen.
Dominic saw my expression.
“What did you receive?”
I showed him.
He read the message.
His face became unreadable.
Then he reached into his desk.
He pulled out an old photograph.
He placed it in front of me.
My father.
Standing beside Dominic.
I stopped breathing.
“What is this?”
“It was taken twenty-two years ago.”
I stared at the photograph.
Dominic was younger.
My father stood beside him.
And between them was another man.
Elias Varela.
Dominic's voice dropped.
“Your father wasn't just my accountant.”
I looked up.
“He was my partner.”
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
Dominic leaned closer.
“And Mason wasn't the first man sent to get close to you.”
I whispered, “Who was the first?”
May you like
Dominic stared at the photograph.
“Me.”
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