Chapter 4: The Voice That Changed Everything
For several seconds, I couldn't hear the music anymore.
Daniel Cross's final words kept repeating inside my head.
Your mother.
The woman who had held my hand when I learned to walk. The woman who had stood beside my father's coffin, weeping so violently that I had to support her. The woman who had kissed my forehead in the hospital and promised me that everything would be all right.
The same woman who had apparently paid someone to make sure I never recovered.
I stared at my phone until the screen went dark.
“Alexander?””
Isabella's voice pulled me back into the ballroom.
She stood beside my wheelchair, holding a folded napkin. Her expression had shifted from concern to genuine alarm.
“You look like you've seen a ghost.””
“Maybe I have.””
She crouched beside me.
“Do you need a doctor?””
“No.”” I swallowed.
“I need the truth.””
Across the room, Brooke was speaking urgently to Chad. He kept looking toward the entrance, where two security officers had begun questioning the guests who had seen my mother leave.
Chad noticed me watching him.
He immediately turned away.
That small movement told me more than any denial could have.
“Isabella, I need you to do something for me.””
“Anything I can reasonably do.””
“Find Richard Lawson. Tell him I need the conference room secured. No one enters without my permission, and nobody leaves with any documents.””
She nodded, then hesitated.
“Alexander, if someone really tried to hurt you, you should call the police.””
“I will. But I need to understand what happened before I accuse my own mother of attempted murder.””
“Understanding it doesn't mean you have to face it alone.””
Her words were quiet, but they steadied me.
I gave her a grateful nod.
“Please get Richard.””
She hurried away.
I looked down at my legs. My right knee had begun to tremble beneath the fabric of my trousers. Standing had taken more out of me than I wanted to admit.
Three months ago, I had measured progress in tiny victories: moving a toe, lifting a heel, taking a step between parallel bars.
Tonight, I had stood in front of two hundred strangers.
And somehow, the hardest thing I had to face wasn't the pain.
It was the possibility that the person who had taught me to stand might have arranged the accident that put me in a wheelchair.
Richard returned within minutes.
“The conference room is ready,” he said.
“Your attorneys are downstairs. I've also contacted the police, although they haven't arrived yet.””
“Good.””
He studied my face.
“Alexander, what did the caller tell you?””
I lowered my voice.
“He claims my mother ordered the accident.””
Richard's jaw tightened.
“Then we need to preserve every record we have.””
“There's more. He says my father discovered someone was stealing from the family trust before he died.””
Richard looked toward the ballroom doors.
“I was afraid of that.””
“You knew?””
“Not the details. But your father came to see me shortly before his death. He was worried about the trust, and he asked me to keep certain financial records outside the company's offices.””
“Where are they?””
“In a safe deposit box. Your father gave me the key.””
Richard reached into his jacket and removed a small brass key attached to a plain metal tag.
I stared at it.
“Why didn't you give me this before?””
“Because your father instructed me to hand it over only if you discovered evidence of tampering with his estate.””
He placed it in my palm.
The metal felt cold.
“Where's the box?””
“Midtown. A private bank on Madison Avenue.””
Before I could ask another question, a woman's voice cut through the conversation.
“Alexander, we need to talk.””
My mother stood several feet away.
She had returned without the mechanic. Her navy gown remained immaculate, but her expression had lost its practiced warmth.
Two security officers stood behind her.
“Where is Samuel Price?”” I asked.
She stiffened.
“I don't know.””
“Where is Daniel Cross?””
“I have no idea who that is.””
“You're lying.””
Her eyes flashed.
“Don't speak to me that way.””
“Then stop giving me reasons to.””
She looked at Richard.
“This is a family matter. I expect you to leave us alone.””
Richard didn't move.
“I'm afraid I can't do that, Mrs. Bennett.””
My mother turned back to me.
“Alexander, you're exhausted. You've been through a terrible accident, and you're allowing people to manipulate you.””
“Did you pay someone to sabotage my car?””
Her face went white.
Then she did something I had never seen her do before.
She laughed.
Not because anything was funny, but because she had decided that laughter was the fastest way to make an accusation seem ridiculous.
“That's insane,” she said.
“You think I would hurt my own son?””
“I think you might have wanted control of the company.””
“I already had control of the family finances.””
“Not the company. Not the trust. Not the voting shares Dad left under independent management.””
Her expression changed.
It was only a flicker.
But I saw it.
“You've seen the will,” she whispered.
Richard took one step forward.
“What will?””
My mother ignored him.
“Where did you get it?””
“Answer my question first.””
She looked around the ballroom. Guests had begun pretending not to listen, which meant every one of them was listening.
Then she leaned toward me.
“You don't understand what your father was planning. He was going to destroy everything we built.””
“What did he discover?””
Her lips pressed together.
“Your father wasn't the man you thought he was.””
I felt a familiar ache beneath my ribs.
“Don't use him to excuse what happened to me.””
“I'm trying to protect you.””
“From whom?””
She opened her mouth.
A sharp crash came from the far side of the ballroom.
Everyone turned.
One of the security officers had seized a man attempting to leave through the service corridor.
The man fought violently, knocking a tray of champagne glasses to the floor.
It was Mr. Harlan, the mechanic.
He twisted free long enough to reach inside his jacket.
“Get away from me!”” he shouted.
The security officer pinned him against the wall.
A small black object fell from Harlan's pocket and skidded across the marble.
A flash drive.
My mother stared at it.
And for the first time that evening, she looked genuinely afraid.
Richard picked it up before anyone else could reach it.
“What's on this?”” he demanded.
Harlan's face crumpled.
“Nothing. It's nothing.””
I looked at my mother.
She was staring at the flash drive as if it contained a loaded gun.
“Mother,” I said softly, “what did you put on there?””
She didn't answer.
Then Harlan suddenly shouted, “She told me to keep it hidden! She said if Alexander ever found out, all of us would go to prison!””
The ballroom went silent.
My mother took a step backward.
I watched the woman who had raised me struggle to find words.
And then she looked directly at me.
“You don't know what your father did,” she whispered.
Before I could respond, Harlan pointed at her with a shaking finger.
“Tell him about the second accident, Victoria!””
My mother closed her eyes.
Richard turned toward me.
“Alexander, what second accident?””
I stared at Harlan.
“What are you talking about?””
The mechanic swallowed.
“Your father's car wasn't the only vehicle I worked on.””
He looked at my wheelchair.
“Three years ago, I was paid to make sure your father died.””
May you like
Then he pointed at my mother.
“And last month, she paid me to finish what I started.””
