Chapter 13 - I couldn't speak.The man stood beneath the basement light.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
Thomas Vale.
My husband's business partner.
The man declared dead eight years ago.
“How?”
Thomas smiled.
“Your husband knew how to disappear.”
Daniel raised his gun.
Thomas laughed.
“You're still predictable, Daniel.”
“You faked your death.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your husband found out too much.”
I looked at him.
“You stole from us.”
“I built the company.”
“My husband built it.”
“He built the public version.”
Thomas stepped down the stairs.
“I built the real network.”
“What network?”
He pointed at the files.
“Everything you found.”
“The bribes?”
“The shell companies.”
“The judges?”
“The politicians.”
“The police?”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“How many people?”
“Enough to make sure no one could touch me.”
“And my husband?”
Thomas's expression changed.
“He wanted out.”
“Why?”
“He discovered where the money came from.”
“What money?”
“The fourteen million.”
I stared.
Thomas smiled.
“Your husband didn't steal that money.”
“No.”
“He recovered it.”
“From whom?”
“From me.”
The room fell silent.
Thomas continued.
“I had accounts hidden throughout the world.”
“Then why didn't you take the money back?”
“Because your husband created the trust.”
“And the house?”
“The house holds the legal key.”
“Why?”
Thomas pointed toward the ceiling.
“Because your husband tied the trust to an old family property agreement.”
Daniel nodded.
“So the property was never about real estate.”
“Exactly.”
I looked at Thomas.
“Why involve Wesley?”
He laughed.
“Because Wesley was easy.”
My heart broke.
“He was afraid.”
“He was ambitious.”
“No.”
“Both.”
Thomas smiled.
“He wanted to save his company.”
“But you created the debt.”
“Yes.”
“You destroyed his business.”
“I gave him one way out.”
“The house.”
“Exactly.”
I looked at Wesley.
He was crying.
“I was trying to protect Mom.”
Thomas shrugged.
“And I let you believe you were the hero.”
Suddenly the basement lights went out.
Gunshots erupted.
Daniel shoved me to the floor.
Marcus tackled Thomas.
Wesley grabbed Emily.
We heard running footsteps.
Then silence.
When the lights came back, Thomas was gone.
Marcus was bleeding.
And the file was missing.
Daniel cursed.
“They took it.”
“Who?”
“Cora.”
I looked at Wesley.
“No.”
He shook his head.
“She wouldn't.”
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Cora's voice came through.
“Wesley.”
“Where are you?”
“With someone you should have trusted.”
“Who?”
A pause.
“Your father.”
Wesley froze.
“What?”
Cora laughed softly.
“He isn't dead.”
“That’s impossible.”
“You should ask your mother.”
I looked at her in confusion.
Then Cora said,
“She knew.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“She knew your father survived.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Cora continued.
“She knew because he contacted her.”
“Why would she?”
“Because she helped him.”
Wesley turned toward me.
“Mom?”
I couldn't answer.
Because suddenly I remembered something.
Nine years ago.
One year before my husband's supposed death.
I had received a mysterious phone call.
A man's voice.
My husband's voice.
He had said only:
“Trust no one.”
I had assumed it was a cruel prank.
But maybe it wasn't.
Maybe my husband had been alive.
Maybe he had contacted me.
Maybe I had ignored the warning because I wanted to believe his death was simple.
Cora spoke again.
“He's been watching you for eight years.”
I whispered,
“Where?”
“Come to the old train station.”
The line went dead.
Daniel looked at me.
“It's a trap.”
“I know.”
“Then why go?”
I looked toward the darkness.
“Because if my husband is alive…”
May you like
I picked up my coat.
“…I need to hear why he let me grieve him.”
