Chapter 9 - THE FAMILY BUILT ON LIES
Daniel arrived at the estate the following afternoon.
He was twenty years old, tall, athletic, and dressed in a dark jacket.
When he entered the library, I immediately recognized Sophia in his face.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
He looked around the room.
“So you're Charles Whitmore.”
I nodded.
“And you're Daniel.”
He gave a short, humorless laugh.
“That's what I've been called my whole life.”
I offered him a chair.
He remained standing.
“Did you know about me?”
“No.”
“Did your sister?”
“Not until recently.”
He looked toward Evelyn.
She approached carefully.
“I wish I had known.”
Daniel studied her.
“You're the woman in the photograph.”
“Yes.”
He looked back at me.
“Why did you let them take us?”
The question hurt.
Because there was no answer that could repair twenty years of absence.
“I didn't know you existed,” I said. “But I won't pretend that makes the loss any smaller.”
Daniel looked down.
Then he removed a small envelope from his jacket.
“My father left this.”
Inside was a handwritten letter.
Daniel,
If you are reading this, then I have probably lost control of the situation.
There are things about your birth that you deserve to know. Your biological father is Charles Whitmore. Your mother was Sophia Bennett.
I was responsible for keeping you away from him.
I told myself I was protecting you.
But the truth is that I was protecting myself.
Your mother died because of decisions made by powerful people. I was involved in the cover-up.
I cannot ask you to forgive me.
But you must understand that Victoria Whitmore is not the only person who knows what happened that night.
Your mother left something behind.
The letter ended there.
Daniel placed another photograph on the table.
It showed Sophia holding two newborn babies.
On the back was a message.
One day, both my children will know their father.
I felt tears gather in my eyes.
I hadn't cried when I lost my ability to walk.
I hadn't cried when my business nearly collapsed.
But looking at that photograph, I couldn't hold back.
Daniel sat across from me.
For the first time, he looked less like a stranger.
“Does Lyla know?”
“She knows she has a brother.”
“Where is she?”
I called upstairs.
A few moments later, Lyla entered the room.
She stopped when she saw Daniel.
He smiled awkwardly.
“Hi.”
She studied him.
“Are you my brother?”
He nodded.
“Looks like it.”
She walked closer.
Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of candy.
“Do you want one?”
Daniel laughed.
“Sure.”
It was a tiny moment.
But it was the first time in twenty years that my family had been together without someone lying about who belonged to whom.
For a while, I allowed myself to believe the worst was over.
Then Marcus entered.
“Sir, we found Richard's vehicle.”
“Was he inside?”
“No. The car was empty.”
I stood.
“Then he's alive.”
Marcus nodded.
“And there's more. Someone accessed the company's private server last night.”
“Who?”
“The login belonged to your late father.”
I frowned.
“My father has been dead for years.”
“Exactly.”
Marcus placed a laptop on the table.
The screen showed a live video feed.
A man sat in a dark room.
His face was partially hidden.
But his voice was clear.
“Charles, I imagine you're beginning to understand.”
I stepped closer.
“Who are you?”
The man laughed softly.
“Someone your father trusted.”
I recognized the voice.
My father's former attorney, Samuel Cross.
He had supposedly retired fifteen years earlier.
“You're alive?”
“Very much so.”
“What do you want?”
“The original trust documents. The gold watch. And both children.”
I moved in front of Lyla and Daniel.
“You're not getting them.”
Samuel leaned toward the camera.
“Then I suppose I should tell you what your father never had the courage to say.”
He paused.
“Neither child was supposed to survive.”
Evelyn covered her mouth.
Samuel continued.
“Your father knew about the plan. He approved it.”
I looked at the screen.
“Why?”
“Because Sophia was never supposed to marry you. She was carrying the child of another man.”
The room went silent.
Daniel stepped forward.
“What are you talking about?”
Samuel smiled.
“Ask your mother.”
I looked at the photograph.
Then at Daniel.
“That's impossible. Sophia was—”
Samuel interrupted.
“Your father wasn't Charles Whitmore.”
Daniel went pale.
May you like
Lyla grabbed my hand.
And for the first time since the gala, I felt the ground disappear beneath me.
