Chapter 5: The Secret in the Locked Room
I had spent my entire life believing my family was the complicated one.
My father was stubborn.
My mother was protective.
We argued.
We disagreed.
We made mistakes.
But we never destroyed each other.
The Whitmores were different.
They smiled while hiding knives.
They gave gifts while calculating what they could take back.
And now I knew there was something bigger than my death.
A file.
I needed to find out what was inside.
The opportunity came twenty minutes later.
Graham received another call and left the main lounge.
Richard followed him.
Victoria stayed behind, pacing near the windows.
That was my chance.
I stood slowly.
“I need my medication,” I said.
Victoria looked at me.
“You mean the pills Graham gave you?””
The way she said it made my blood freeze.
Not concern.
Confirmation.
I forced a weak smile.
“Yes.””
She pointed toward the hallway.
“Your cabin.””
I walked away.
But I didn’t go to my cabin.
I followed the voices.
The lower corridor was darker than the rest of the yacht.
Most guests never came here.
It smelled like metal and saltwater.
At the end of the hallway was a locked office.
Richard’s office.
I heard voices inside.
“The file cannot stay here,” Victoria whispered.
“It’s already copied,” Richard replied.
My heart jumped.
Copied?
“By who?””
“I don’t know.””
A pause.
Then Richard said something that made me press closer to the door.
“Emily’s father knows.””
My breath stopped.
My father?
How?
Victoria’s voice became urgent.
“If William knows, then everything falls apart.””
William.
My father.
They weren’t just planning to kill me.
They were afraid of my father discovering something.
I reached for the door handle.
Locked.
I looked around.
A small security keypad sat beside it.
I had no idea what the code was.
Then I remembered something.
Graham’s birthday.
The date he used for everything.
The password on his laptop.
The code to our hotel safe.
I entered it.
Red light.
Wrong.
I tried again.
His mother’s birthday.
Red.
I thought faster.
Then I remembered something Graham once said.
“My father taught me one thing. Family comes first.””
I typed Richard’s birth year.
Green light.
The door opened.
I stepped inside.
The office was small.
A desk.
A safe.
Several screens.
And a locked drawer.
The drawer had a label.
“Whitmore Holdings.””
My hands shook.
I opened it.
Inside were documents.
Contracts.
Bank records.
Photos.
And one folder with my name.
EMILY CARTER.
I stared at it.
My name.
Printed on a folder inside my husband’s father’s secret office.
I opened it.
The first page made my knees weak.
It was a report.
A financial investigation.
My father’s company.
But the date was impossible.
It was from twelve years ago.
Before I met Graham.
Before our families became connected.
I turned the page.
And saw something I never expected.
A photograph.
My father.
Richard.
And another man I didn’t recognize.
All standing together.
The note beneath it said:
“Original agreement regarding the Carter acquisition.””
Acquisition?
My father never sold anything.
My hands moved faster.
Then I heard footsteps outside.
I shoved the folder back into place.
Too late.
The door handle moved.
I looked around.
No exit.
No hiding place.
The door opened slowly.
And Graham stepped inside.
He stared at me.
Not surprised.
Not confused.
Just disappointed.
Like a teacher catching a student cheating.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Graham closed the door behind him.
“Emily.””
May you like
His voice was quiet.
“What exactly are you looking for?””
