Chapter 6: The Truth About My Family
I stared at my father.
Waiting for him to laugh.
Waiting for him to tell me it was a cruel joke.
He didn’t.
He just looked older than I remembered.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like a man who had carried a secret too heavy for too long.
“My mother died when I was young.””
“I know.””
“You’re telling me she was involved in all of this?””
My father looked away.
“Not in the way you think.””
I hated those words.
Because every person who betrayed me had used them.
Not in the way you think.
You don’t understand.
There’s more to the story.
I was tired of stories.
I wanted facts.
“You disappeared,” I said.
“Yes.””
“You let me bury you.””
“Yes.””
“You let me believe I was alone.””
His eyes filled with regret.
“I was trying to keep you alive.””
I laughed.
A painful laugh.
“By abandoning me?””
My father didn’t defend himself.
That made it worse.
I walked around the office.
Everything looked frozen in time.
His books.
His desk.
The old family photos.
Then I saw one picture.
My mother.
My father.
Me as a child.
A happy family.
Or at least I thought it was.
“What happened?””
My father took a deep breath.
“Your mother discovered something about Bennett Technologies.””
“What?””
“Before you built the company, before Chad joined you, there were investors who wanted control.””
“That doesn’t explain anything.””
“They weren’t normal investors.””
He looked at me.
“They were criminals.””
The room felt colder.
“And my mother?””
“She tried to expose them.””
I looked at the photograph.
“What happened?””
“She died.””
I waited.
“Accidentally?””
My father didn’t answer.
That silence told me everything.
My hands curled into fists.
“Who killed her?””
My father walked to a locked drawer.
He opened it.
Inside was a collection of files.
Documents.
Photos.
Records.
He placed one folder on the desk.
“Everything connects to one person.””
I opened it.
The first page contained a name.
Margaret Whitmore.
I stared.
“No.””
My father nodded.
“She was involved from the beginning.””
Brooke’s mother.
The woman who smiled at me.
The woman who hugged me at family dinners.
The woman who watched her daughter leave me when she thought I was worthless.
“She killed my mother?””
“No.””
My father paused.
“But she helped the people who did.””
I felt sick.
All these years.
I thought my mother died because of fate.
Because of something random.
But someone had taken her from me.
And now that same person had tried to take everything else.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because after your mother died, they watched me.””
“Who?””
My father looked at the door.
Then lowered his voice.
“Chad wasn’t the mastermind.””
I closed my eyes.
“Again with Chad not being the mastermind.””
My father leaned closer.
“Because he wasn’t.””
“Then who?””
He hesitated.
And for some reason, that scared me more than the answer.
“The person controlling Chad…”
A sound interrupted him.
A crash downstairs.
Everyone froze.
Daniel reached for his phone.
Isabella looked toward the hallway.
My father stood immediately.
“They found us.””
“Who?””
He didn’t answer.
Because a voice came from downstairs.
A voice I recognized.
A voice that made my entire body go cold.
“Ethan?””
Brooke.
I looked at my father.
“She followed us?””
He shook his head.
“No.””
Then he whispered:
“She isn’t here alone.””
Footsteps moved across the floor.
Slow.
Confident.
Someone was coming upstairs.
My father grabbed the folder.
“Whatever happens, don’t trust what you’re about to hear.””
The footsteps stopped outside the office.
The door handle moved.
And then a familiar voice said:
“Ethan, there’s something you need to know about your father.””
May you like
The door opened.
And the person standing there was the last person I expected.
