Chapter 5
I thought I knew my father.
That was what hurt most.
Michael betraying me was horrifying.
But hearing Daniel suggest Dad had hidden an entire business relationship with Michael’s family made the floor feel unstable beneath me.
“What business?”
Daniel closed the office door, even though the police were still moving through the house.
“Your father and Robert Bennett founded a small software company together more than twenty years ago.”
I stared at him.
“Why have I never heard this?”
“Because it failed.”
“Apparently not completely.”
Daniel exhaled.
“No. Not completely.”
He sat across from me.
“When they started, Robert handled sales and your father handled financing and operations. After about eighteen months, they had a major disagreement.”
“About what?”
“Money.”
Of course.
Everything came back to money.
“Robert claimed your father forced him out.”
“Did he?”
“The legal records say Robert voluntarily sold his interest.”
“That’s not what Michael believes.”
“No.”
“What do you believe?”
Daniel paused.
“I believe your father.”
That wasn’t enough for me.
“You were his friend.”
“Yes.”
“So tell me facts.”
His expression softened.
“You sound exactly like him.”
I didn’t smile.
Daniel continued.
“Robert signed a settlement agreement. He was paid for his ownership interest. The company later collapsed. Your father retained some intellectual property from the business and invested in a second company years later.”
“The company that was sold?”
“Eventually, yes.”
“So Michael thinks his father should have owned part of it.”
“That would be my guess.”
Jessica crossed her arms.
“Even if that were true, marrying Emily to steal money is insane.”
“Yes,” Daniel said.
I looked at the email again.
Your father stole what should have belonged to my family.
The wording bothered me.
Not what belonged to my father.
What belonged to my family.
Patricia’s language.
Everything here belongs to this family.
Including what you brought into the marriage.
It wasn’t just Michael.
The belief had been taught.
Nurtured.
Maybe for decades.
“Where is Robert now?”
Daniel hesitated.
“He died seven years ago.”
Michael told me his father had died when he was young.
He made it sound as though Robert had been a hardworking man destroyed by illness.
He never mentioned my father.
“What happened to him?”
“Heart attack.”
I thought about Claire saying their father “left.”
Maybe she meant died.
Or maybe there was more.
I was learning not to assume anything.
Jessica picked up another scattered file.
“So Michael and Patricia knew Emily’s father was connected to Robert. How did they know Emily had valuable shares?”
“That is the question,” Daniel said.
My phone buzzed again.
Another email from Michael.
This one contained an attachment.
I didn’t open it.
Daniel forwarded both emails to himself for evidence.
Then he looked at me.
“We need to decide whether engagement is useful.”
“What does that mean?”
“Michael wants something. People reveal information when they think they can negotiate.”
Jessica shook her head.
“No way. He’s dangerous.”
“I’m not suggesting Emily meet him alone.”
“I don’t want to see him.”
Daniel nodded.
“Then don’t.”
But part of me did.
Not because I loved him.
Not because I wanted reconciliation.
I wanted to look into his face and hear him explain when our relationship became a strategy.
Was our first date planned?
Our first vacation?
The night he proposed?
Had he ever loved me?
Or had he been performing for two years?
Those questions were emotional.
Daniel’s next question was practical.
“Do you know where Michael keeps important documents?”
“At the house.”
“Anywhere else?”
“He rents a storage unit.”
Both Daniel and Jessica looked at me.
“How do you know?” Daniel asked.
“I helped him move boxes there last year.”
“What was inside?”
“He said old family things.”
“Location?”
I remembered.
“Eastview Storage.”
Daniel wrote it down.
“We can’t access it without permission or legal process.”
“I know.”
My phone rang from another unknown number.
I answered before Daniel could stop me.
“Emily?”
Claire.
Her voice was shaking.
“Where are you?”
“Safe. Why?”
“Michael knows I talked to you.”
My stomach dropped.
“How?”
“I don’t know. He came to my apartment.”
“You said you were staying with a friend.”
“I came back this morning for clothes.”
“Is he there now?”
“No.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“No, but he was furious.”
“What did he want?”
“The folder.”
“What folder?”
“The one from Mom’s room.”
I stood.
“Claire, did you take it?”
She started crying.
“I did.”
“Where is it?”
“With me.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Claire has Patricia’s folder with my name on it.”
Daniel’s eyes sharpened.
“Do not open it in public. Tell her to bring it directly here or to my office.”
I repeated that.
Claire whispered, “I can’t come to your father’s house.”
“Why?”
“Because Michael followed me earlier.”
My chest tightened.
“Where are you?”
“At a police station.”
Relief.
“Stay there.”
“I told them I was afraid to go home.”
“Good.”
“There’s something inside the folder you need to see.”
“Claire—”
“It’s a photograph of you.”
I stopped.
“What kind of photograph?”
“You’re walking into your office.”
A chill moved through me.
“When?”
“There’s a date written on the back.”
“How old?”
“Eleven months.”
Before Michael proposed.
“What else?”
“Pictures of your father’s house. Your car. Your mom’s apartment.”
Jessica went pale.
“They were following her.”
Daniel was already dialing someone.
“Claire, don’t leave that station until Daniel’s investigator arrives.”
“Okay.”
“Is there anything else?”
“Yes.”
She lowered her voice.
“There’s a copy of your father’s obituary. And a report.”
“What report?”
“It has your financial information. Property. Salary estimate. Your old address. Your employer.”
My stomach rolled.
“How long ago was it prepared?”
“The cover page says eighteen months.”
Michael and I had been dating for six months then.
I remembered that period.
He became more serious around exactly that time.
He started talking about marriage.
Children.
Our future.
Was that when Patricia discovered I was Robert Bennett’s former business partner’s daughter?
“Who wrote the report?”
Claire hesitated.
“It has a company name.”
“What company?”
“Northstar Investigations.”
Daniel stopped dialing.
His face changed.
“You know them?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“They’re a private investigation firm.”
Jessica whispered a curse.
I gripped the phone.
“Claire, is there an invoice?”
“Several.”
“Who paid them?”
Paper rustled.
Then Claire answered.
“Patricia Bennett.”
That should have been the worst thing.
It wasn’t.
Claire continued.
“There’s a second report.”
My skin prickled.
“On who?”
“Michael.”
I blinked.
“Why would Patricia investigate her own son?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does it say?”
“I only read the first page.”
“And?”
Claire’s voice dropped to almost nothing.
“It says Michael had been dating another woman when he met you.”
The room became silent.
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Why wouldn’t there be another betrayal?
“What woman?”
“Her name is Sarah Collins.”
I had never heard the name.
“Anything else?”
“Emily…”
“What?”
“The report says she filed a police complaint against him.”
My heart began hammering.
“For what?”
“Harassment.”
I looked at Daniel.
He heard it.
His expression was grim.
Claire continued.
“It says they were engaged.”
I sat down hard.
Michael had told me I was the first woman he ever proposed to.
I suddenly remembered something from our wedding.
A woman standing at the back of the ceremony.
Dark hair.
Black dress.
I assumed she was one of Michael’s distant relatives.
She left before the reception.
A memory surfaced.
Michael saw her.
His entire expression changed.
When I asked who she was, he said he didn’t know.
I told Jessica.
She grabbed her phone.
“I have wedding pictures.”
We searched.
Hundreds of photographs.
Guests.
Flowers.
My mother crying.
Michael smiling.
Then Jessica found one.
The woman in black stood near the church door.
Her face was partially visible.
Claire had texted me a photograph of the first page of the report.
Sarah Collins’s driver’s license photo was clipped to it.
Same woman.
I felt my stomach drop.
“She came to my wedding.”
Daniel leaned closer.
“Maybe she was trying to warn you.”
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was a Facebook message from an account I didn’t recognize.
Sarah Collins.
My hands went cold.
I opened it.
Emily, you don’t know me, but I was at your wedding yesterday. I tried to speak to you and Patricia stopped me. Michael is not who you think he is. Please do not go back to that house.
Another message followed.
And whatever you do, do not sign anything he gives you.
I typed back before anyone could stop me.
Why were you there?
May you like
Her response came almost immediately.
Because six years ago, Michael married me too.
