Chapter 7: The Family That Bought My Silence
For several seconds, I couldn't understand what I was reading.
Ryan's father.
Richard Mitchell.
The man who had paid for our engagement dinner at a private club overlooking Lake Michigan. The man who had toasted my future with his son and told me that ambition was the foundation of every successful marriage.
The man who had once called Daniel Brooks a reckless entrepreneur who would never survive his first recession.
He had been trying to buy Daniel's company four years before my wedding.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
Daniel closed the folder.
"Unfortunately, the records suggest otherwise.""
I looked at Margaret.
"Are you saying Ryan's father paid Jessica to interfere with Daniel's business?""
"I'm saying the payments require investigation," Margaret replied.
"We have evidence of financial transactions, but we don't yet know precisely what services were provided or whether anyone knowingly participated in wrongdoing.""
Daniel stood and walked toward the windows.
Below us, Chicago moved through its ordinary Monday morning. Cars crawled along the riverfront. Pedestrians hurried beneath umbrellas. Nobody outside knew that four years of my life might have been built around a lie.
"Why would Richard Mitchell want your company?"" I asked.
"Brooks Innovations had developed software that several major financial institutions wanted," Daniel answered.
"Richard believed he could acquire the company cheaply if our financing collapsed.""
"And my letter to Whitmore?""
"Could have contributed to that outcome.""
I remembered Ryan's father sitting across from me at dinner three months before the wedding.
He had asked whether Daniel ever contacted me.
I'd laughed and told him Daniel was too proud to admit he'd failed.
Richard had smiled.
"Some people never learn when to walk away," he'd said.
At the time, I'd thought he was talking about my ex-husband's stubbornness.
Now I wondered what else he'd known.
Margaret gathered the documents.
"Mr. Brooks, I've arranged for outside counsel to preserve the relevant records. We shouldn't draw conclusions until the review is complete.""
Daniel nodded.
"Agreed.""
Then he looked at me.
"Emily, your interview is over for today.""
I stood.
"Am I still being considered for the position?""
"Your professional qualifications remain under review. The compliance investigation is separate, although it may affect your eligibility for a role involving confidential financial information.""
I swallowed.
"That's fair.""
Daniel looked faintly surprised that I hadn't argued.
Perhaps I was surprised too.
As I reached the door, he spoke again.
"One more thing. Don't contact Jessica about the investigation. If you have information, provide it to the independent investigators.""
I nodded and left.
I made it to the elevator before my phone rang.
Ryan.
For one reckless moment, hope rushed through me.
I answered immediately.
"Ryan?""
"Where are you?""
"Leaving Brooks Capital.""
"Did you see the report?""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"How do you know about it?""
"My father called me.""
The elevator doors opened. I stepped into an empty corridor instead of getting inside.
"What did he say?""
"He said Daniel is trying to damage our family because you humiliated him at the wedding.""
I closed my eyes.
"Ryan, the records show payments to a consulting company connected to Jessica.""
"That's not what my father told me.""
"Then ask him about the company.""
A long silence followed.
Finally, Ryan said, "He claims he paid for legitimate market research. He says Jessica was gathering information about Brooks Innovations.""
"Why would she need to access my email account?""
"I don't know.""
"Why did your father want Daniel's company?""
"Emily, he invests in businesses. You know that.""
"Not by sabotaging their financing.""
Ryan exhaled sharply.
"You don't know that he did.""
"No. But I know someone accessed my account and submitted information in my name.""
"Maybe Jessica did it without his knowledge.""
The possibility chilled me because it sounded plausible.
Jessica had always been capable of making terrible decisions while convincing herself she was helping.
"Ryan, I think your father needs to explain those payments.""
"My father doesn't answer to you.""
The words hurt more than they should have.
"Neither do you," I replied.
"But I thought you'd want to know the truth.""
He was silent.
Then he said, "I need time, Emily.""
The call ended.
I remained in the corridor, staring at my reflection in the darkened elevator doors.
For years, I had believed Daniel was the reason my life had gone wrong.
Now every path led to someone else.
And every path led back to a choice I'd made myself.
That evening, I met my father at a small restaurant near our old neighborhood.
He arrived wearing the navy blazer he'd worn to my wedding, though he'd removed his tie. He looked older than he had two days earlier.
I told him everything.
He listened without interrupting.
When I finished, he folded his napkin and placed it beside his plate.
"There's something you need to know about your first marriage.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"Daniel came to see me after you separated.""
My chest tightened.
"When?""
"About a month after you left him.""
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"Because he asked me not to interfere.""
My father rubbed his forehead.
"He wanted to know whether you were safe. He'd heard you were struggling to pay your rent.""
I laughed bitterly.
"He was checking on me?""
"Yes.""
"After I left him?""
"Yes.""
I looked away.
My father continued.
"He also asked whether I knew why you had contacted Richard Mitchell.""
My fork slipped from my hand.
"You knew about that letter?""
"Not at the time. Daniel showed me a copy of the correspondence. I told him you were frightened and angry, but I never imagined you'd gone so far.""
I felt as though the restaurant had suddenly lost its oxygen.
"What did he say?""
My father looked directly at me.
"He said he didn't want revenge. He wanted to understand why the woman he loved had become so determined to see him fail.""
I pressed my palms against my eyes.
"Please stop.""
My father didn't.
"Daniel also told me something else. He said he believed someone had encouraged you to distrust him.""
I lowered my hands.
"Who?""
"He wouldn't speculate. He said he didn't have proof.""
My phone vibrated against the table.
An unknown number.
I opened the message.
Emily, we need to talk. I have the original email chain and proof that Richard Mitchell knew about the letter before it was sent.
Another message appeared.
Meet me tomorrow. Come alone.
At the bottom was a name.
Jessica.
Before I could reply, a third message arrived.
And don't tell Daniel. If he sees what I have, he'll know who really signed the agreement.
I stared at the screen.
My father leaned forward.
"What's wrong?""
I turned the phone toward him.
He read the messages twice.
Then he looked at me with a seriousness that made my stomach twist.
"Emily, if Jessica has evidence, you need to be very careful.""
"Why?""
He hesitated.
"Because four years ago, when Daniel came to see me, he told me he had signed an agreement with someone else.""
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Who?""
May you like
My father lowered his voice.
"Your mother.""
