Chapter 8: The Son My Father Never Claimed
I stared at the birth certificate.
Arthur Bennett.
Father.
Jonathan Reed.
Son.
For years, I'd believed my brother and I shared the same parents.
We'd grown up in the same house, celebrated the same birthdays, and fought over the same toys.
My father had taught us both to ride bicycles.
He'd taken us fishing.
He'd sat beside Jonathan when he broke his arm at thirteen.
Now I was looking at a document suggesting that the man I'd called my brother was actually the biological son of the man who had nearly destroyed our company.
"Is this authentic?"" I asked.
Mr. Harrison nodded.
"Your father commissioned a private investigation after discovering inconsistencies in Jonathan's medical records.""
"Why didn't he tell us?""
"Because he believed the truth would tear the family apart.""
I looked at the birth certificate again.
"Did my mother know?""
"Yes.""
"Did Jonathan know?""
Mr. Harrison hesitated.
"I believe Arthur told him shortly before your father's death.""
That explained the anger.
The resentment.
The obsession with inheritance.
But it didn't explain why Jonathan was willing to steal millions.
"Did my father leave any other instructions?""
Mr. Harrison opened his briefcase.
"He created a separate trust for Jonathan.""
"How much?""
"Five million dollars.""
I blinked.
"Five million?""
"Your father wanted Jonathan to have financial security without giving him control of the company.""
"Was the trust funded?""
"Yes. The money was deposited into a protected account.""
I looked at Emily.
"Can you check whether that account has been touched?""
She nodded and stepped outside to make a call.
Mr. Harrison continued.
"Your father also established a condition. If Jonathan attempted to obtain company assets through fraud, the trust would be frozen pending an investigation.""
I leaned back.
"So he knew this might happen.""
"He feared it.""
My phone vibrated.
A message from Vanessa.
Please answer. Jonathan knows I spoke to you.
Another message appeared.
He's coming here. He says I betrayed him.
I immediately called her.
She answered on the first ring.
"Marcus!""
"Where are you?""
"At home. I've locked the doors.""
"Have you called the police?""
"No. I don't want him arrested.""
"Vanessa, he stole millions from my company.""
"He's my husband.""
"Then perhaps you should remember that before helping him.""
She started crying.
"Please don't do this.""
I took a breath.
"Listen carefully. Don't open the door for anyone. Police officers are being sent to your address.""
There was a crash in the background.
Vanessa screamed.
"Jonathan!""
I stood.
"What happened?""
"He has a key!""
I heard a man's voice.
"Vanessa! Open the door!""
"Stay away from me!""
The call suddenly disconnected.
"Emily!"" I shouted.
She rushed into the room.
"Call the police. Vanessa's address. Now.""
She immediately relayed the information.
I grabbed my car keys.
Mr. Harrison stood.
"Marcus, you shouldn't go there alone.""
"I'm not planning to.""
Within minutes, two security officers from the headquarters accompanied me.
The drive to Buckhead felt endless.
When we arrived, a black SUV was parked outside Vanessa's house.
The front door stood open.
I rushed inside.
A lamp had been knocked over.
A glass lay shattered across the marble floor.
Vanessa stood near the staircase, holding her phone.
Jonathan was in the living room.
He turned when he heard me.
"Well, look who's here.""
I stopped several feet away.
"Leave her alone.""
Jonathan laughed.
"You're still trying to play the hero?""
Vanessa moved behind me.
"Marcus, he wants the documents.""
Jonathan pointed toward her.
"She stole something that belongs to me.""
I looked at him.
"What documents?""
"The original trust agreement.""
"Mr. Harrison has the original.""
Jonathan's expression changed.
"You're lying.""
"Am I?""
He stepped closer.
"Father promised me control.""
"Father gave you a five-million-dollar trust.""
Jonathan's jaw tightened.
"You know about that?""
"Yes.""
He laughed bitterly.
"Five million dollars. That's what he thought I was worth.""
"That's more money than most people will ever see.""
"I didn't want his charity!""
"You wanted the company.""
"I deserved the company!""
Vanessa suddenly spoke.
"Jonathan, you told me Arthur was going to make everything right.""
He turned toward her.
"Shut up.""
"You told me Marcus was going to lose everything.""
"I said shut up!""
Jonathan grabbed her handbag from the table and emptied it onto the floor.
Keys, makeup, and a small envelope scattered across the marble.
He snatched the envelope.
I recognized the handwriting.
My father's.
"Give it back," I said.
Jonathan smiled.
"Why? Afraid I'll finally learn the truth?""
He tore the envelope open.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
He read the first paragraph.
Then his face changed.
"What is this?""
I stepped closer.
"Read it aloud.""
His hands began shaking.
The document wasn't an inheritance agreement.
It was a letter from my father.
And the first sentence read:
Jonathan, I know Arthur is your biological father, but I raised you as my son because I loved you.
Jonathan looked up.
For the first time in my life, I saw tears in my brother's eyes.
Then he looked at me.
"Did you know?""
"No.""
He crumpled the paper.
"You're lying!""
Before I could respond, sirens sounded outside.
Jonathan looked toward the open door.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
"Arthur?""
He listened.
His face slowly hardened.
"Yes. I have the letter.""
A pause.
Then Jonathan whispered.
"Wait. What do you mean you're coming to get me?""
He looked at me.
And suddenly, I understood something.
May you like
Jonathan wasn't the mastermind.
He was still taking orders.
