Chapter 5 - My Father’s Last Secret
I wanted to believe Adrian was lying.
Not because I trusted Julian.
That part of me had died beneath an operating-room light.
But because believing Adrian meant accepting that my father had known something terrible about the man I married and had allowed me to marry him anyway.
“Explain everything.”
Adrian pulled the chair closer.
“Twelve years ago, Julian wasn't running a startup. He worked as a junior analyst for Beaumont Maritime.”
I knew that.
It was where Dad first met him.
“Your father discovered discrepancies in vendor payments. Small amounts initially. Then larger ones.”
“How much?”
“Approximately eight hundred thousand dollars.”
My stomach dropped.
“Julian stole it?”
“We couldn't prove he personally took it. The payments went through a shell vendor.”
“Then why did Dad help him later?”
“Because another employee confessed.”
“Who?”
“Julian's older brother, Nathan.”
I frowned.
Julian had told me Nathan died before we met.
“Your father believed Nathan had acted alone. Nathan returned part of the money, agreed to cooperate, and then died in a car accident three weeks later.”
A cold sensation moved through me.
“And Julian?”
“Your father felt responsible.”
“For Nathan's death?”
“Yes.”
“So he helped Julian.”
“Initially.”
Adrian looked down.
“Then you fell in love with him.”
I remembered being twenty-one.
Julian had been twenty-seven.
Charming, hungry, brilliant.
My father had objected.
I had accused him of judging Julian because he wasn't wealthy enough.
God.
How young I had been.
“Dad tried to stop the wedding.”
“Yes.”
“But he never told me about Nathan.”
“Because he had promised Nathan confidentiality.”
“That promise mattered more than protecting me?”
“No.”
Adrian's voice sharpened.
“Your father made mistakes, Genevieve. But he loved you.”
“Then why didn't he tell me?”
“Because by the time he suspected Julian was involved, you had already married him.”
I stared.
“Suspected?”
Adrian nodded.
“New evidence emerged.”
“What evidence?”
“The journals Julian removed.”
My heart began pounding.
“What was in them?”
“Dates. Accounts. Names. Your father's private investigation.”
“And now Julian has them.”
“Yes.”
I looked away.
The city beyond the window had become blurred by snow.
For years I had thought my marriage was imperfect but real.
Now every memory had a question attached to it.
Had Julian loved me?
Had he married access?
Had he stayed because of my father?
And why marry Victoria so publicly before securing a divorce?
Adrian seemed to read the question.
“There's something else.”
I almost laughed.
“There always is.”
“Victoria contacted your father six months before he died.”
I looked back.
“What?”
“She was working for Hayes Strategic at the time.”
“No. She told me she was unemployed.”
“She lied.”
“Why contact Dad?”
“We don't know.”
My mind moved backward three years.
Victoria had appeared at a charity luncheon.
We had spoken in the restroom after I found her crying.
She said she had lost her job.
I had offered an introduction.
Had that meeting been accidental?
A knock interrupted us.
Dr. Samuel Mercer entered.
He was the surgeon who had operated on me.
Early thirties.
Dark blond hair.
Calm eyes.
A quiet confidence completely unlike Julian's theatrical certainty.
He checked the monitor.
“You're doing too much.”
“I've been lying in bed.”
“You've also apparently conducted a corporate restructuring from intensive care.”
Eleanor smiled.
Adrian did not.
Dr. Mercer looked at me.
“Your artery was repaired. That doesn't make you indestructible.”
“That's disappointing.”
“It usually is.”
His mouth twitched.
“Walk today. Slowly. Eat something. And avoid stress.”
Everyone in the room stared at him.
He glanced around.
“I realize the last one may be ambitious.”
For the first time in twenty-four hours, I laughed.
It hurt terribly.
He immediately supported my shoulder.
“Small laughs.”
“Medical advice?”
“Absolutely.”
Something passed between us.
Brief.
Warm.
Then I noticed Adrian watching.
Not suspiciously.
Thoughtfully.
Dr. Mercer left.
Eleanor waited three seconds.
“He's handsome.”
“Eleanor.”
“You nearly died. I'm encouraging appreciation of life.”
“Please stop.”
Adrian unexpectedly said, “I agree with Genevieve.”
She looked at him.
“Of course you do. You haven't smiled since 2014.”
Despite everything, the room felt human for several seconds.
Then my phone buzzed.
Marcus.
I answered.
“Tell me.”
“We found the destination behind the Cayman holding company.”
“Who owns it?”
“That's the problem.”
“What?”
“It doesn't exist anymore.”
I frowned.
“The account exists.”
“Yes. The company doesn't.”
“Explain.”
“It was dissolved two years ago.”
Adrian stood.
“Who was the beneficial owner before dissolution?”
Marcus paused.
Then said a name.
“Nathan Vance.”
No one moved.
Julian's dead brother.
I looked at Adrian.
“That’s impossible.”
“Yes,” he said.
Marcus continued.
“There’s more. The account has received smaller payments for eleven years.”
“From whom?”
“Several companies.”
“Which companies?”
“Beaumont Maritime was one.”
My blood went cold.
“And Vance Global?”
“Yes.”
I gripped the phone.
“Someone has been sending money to an account belonging to a dead man?”
“That's what it looks like.”
Adrian’s face had changed completely.
He grabbed his coat.
“Where are you going?”
“To find Julian.”
“Why?”
“Because Nathan's death certificate may be the first thing we were supposed to question.”
He reached the door.
Then stopped.
“Genevieve, do not leave this hospital without security.”
“Adrian—”
“Promise me.”
Something in his voice made me listen.
“I promise.”
He left.
Two hours passed.
Then three.
At 8:41 p.m., Adrian called.
I answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
No response.
“Adrian?”
Static.
Then breathing.
“Genevieve.”
His voice sounded strained.
“What happened?”
“I found Julian.”
“Where?”
“At an old warehouse near the river.”
My stomach tightened.
“Is he with Victoria?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Adrian went silent.
“Who is he with?”
May you like
When he answered, his voice was almost a whisper.
“A man who died twelve years ago.”
