Chapter 8: The Secret Claire Carried
The next morning, my house looked less like a home and more like a fortress.
Security cameras.
Armed guards.
Locked doors.
People checking every corner.
Everything I had spent years avoiding.
I hated it.
Because Noah deserved a normal childhood.
Not a childhood where his father looked out the window every five minutes wondering who was watching.
He sat at the kitchen table eating cereal while Marcus reviewed security reports.
“Dad?””
I looked up.
“Yeah?””
“Are we moving?””
The question caught me off guard.
“No.””
He looked toward the guards outside.
“Then why are there so many people?””
I forced a smile.
“They’re just making sure we’re safe.””
Noah thought about it.
“Are we superheroes now?””
I almost smiled.
Almost.
“Something like that.””
He nodded seriously.
“Then I want a cape.””
For a second, everything felt normal.
Then Claire walked in.
And the feeling disappeared.
She looked exhausted.
She hadn’t slept.
Neither had I.
“Daniel.””
I stood.
“Tell me everything.””
She looked at Noah.
“I don’t want to do this in front of him.””
I nodded.
“Marcus, take Noah upstairs.””
Noah looked confused.
“Dad?””
I crouched down.
“Go pick a cape.””
That got a small smile.
When he left, the silence returned.
Claire sat across from me.
“I should have told you years ago.””
“Yes.””
She nodded.
“I know.””
I waited.
She took a deep breath.
“Your father created the Cross Foundation as a way to protect people from companies like ours.””
I frowned.
“My father built my company.””
“Yes.””
“But he also created the foundation?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Claire looked down.
“Because he knew wealth could become dangerous.””
That sounded impossible coming from my father.
He had always been obsessed with growth.
With winning.
With becoming bigger.
“He hid money?””
“Not money.””
She looked at me.
“Evidence.””
My expression changed.
“Evidence of what?””
“Corruption.””
The word landed heavily.
“Inside Cross Holdings?””
She nodded.
“Years ago, your father discovered someone was using the company to move illegal funds.””
I stared at her.
“Who?””
“I don’t know.””
“Claire.””
“I really don’t.””
She looked frustrated.
“Your father never told me the name. He said if I knew too much, I could become a target.””
“And he trusted you with this?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Her eyes softened.
“Because I was pregnant with you and Noah’s future.””
I looked away.
Too many secrets.
Too many years.
“Why did Ethan come back?””
Claire hesitated.
“He knows where the evidence is.””
My eyes narrowed.
“Where?””
“I don’t know.””
“You keep saying that.””
“Because it’s true.””
She stood and walked toward the window.
“He believes the person who betrayed your father is still alive.””
“Who?””
She turned around.
“The same person who changed your company documents.””
I thought about the three names with access to my office.
Me.
Marcus.
Lena.
Then another thought came.
Someone else.
Someone who didn’t need access.
Someone who owned the company.
My blood went cold.
“My board.””
Claire nodded.
“Maybe.””
I looked at her.
“You knew all this and said nothing.””
She closed her eyes.
“I was trying to protect you.””
“No.””
My voice was quiet.
“You were trying to control what I knew.””
That hurt her.
But she didn’t argue.
My phone rang.
Marcus.
I answered.
“What happened?””
His voice was serious.
“We found something.””
“What?””
“The person who entered your house left fingerprints.””
I looked at Claire.
“Who?””
A pause.
Then:
“Lena.””
My stomach dropped.
“That’s impossible.””
“We checked twice.””
“No.””
“Daniel.””
I heard the hesitation.
“There’s more.””
“What?””
Marcus lowered his voice.
“We found another set of prints.””
“Whose?””
A long pause.
Then he said:
“The second set belongs to Noah.””
I stopped breathing.
“What?””
“Daniel, listen to me.””
“No.””
I looked toward the stairs.
“No.””
Because Noah was six years old.
He couldn’t be involved.
He couldn’t understand any of this.
Marcus continued.
“The prints were found on the hidden compartment inside the folder.””
I looked at the papers on the table.
The folder my father left.
The folder someone wanted.
“Why would Noah touch it?””
Marcus didn’t answer.
“Marcus.””
Finally, he said:
“Because the compartment wasn’t opened until Noah touched the cover.””
My heart sank.
A secret designed for my son.
Not me.
Not Claire.
May you like
Not Ethan.
Noah.
