Chapter 9 - JASON WAS RICH AND DIDN’T KNOW IT
Jason did not believe me.
“You’re lying.”
I handed him the copy of Charles Warren’s will.
He read it.
Then sat down.
For the first time in my life, my brother looked less arrogant than lost.
“Dad isn’t my dad?”
“He raised you.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“No.”
He looked toward Diane.
She had refused to attend the meeting.
That told him enough.
Jason laughed once.
Then slammed his fist into the table.
“Everyone knew except me?”
“I didn’t.”
He looked at me.
Something passed between us.
For once, we were on the same side of a lie.
A court-approved DNA test later confirmed it.
Charles Warren was Jason’s biological father.
The sealed trust had grown to roughly $11 million.
Jason cried when he learned.
Not from happiness.
From humiliation.
All those years bragging.
Borrowing.
Pretending to be successful.
While Diane knew he had a potential inheritance and never told him.
“Why?” he asked her.
We were all in the attorney’s office when she finally answered.
“Because Charles’s family would have demanded proof.”
“So?”
“They would have exposed everything.”
“What everything?”
Diane looked at Dad.
He looked away.
Then she revealed another secret.
Charles had known about the embezzlement.
He was not the victim.
He was part of it.
Dad, Diane, and Charles had been moving money together through fake construction suppliers.
Daniel discovered irregularities.
So they framed him.
The missing $740,000 was only the visible portion.
The real scheme exceeded $6 million.
Dad stared at Diane.
“You said those records were gone.”
She looked at him.
“They were.”
“Were?”
Diane’s face changed.
Thomas Reed had copies.
So did my mother.
That was why Mom had been so dangerous.
Not because she remembered Dad stole.
Because she remembered all three of them did.
Charles died before facing consequences.
Dad and Diane survived by keeping Mom isolated and Daniel discredited.
Jason stood.
“You used me.”
Diane reached toward him.
“I protected you.”
“No.”
He stepped back.
“You protected yourself.”
I almost smiled at the familiar sentence.
Then Jason turned to me.
“I forged your signature.”
The room went silent.
“I know.”
“No.”
His eyes filled.
“You don’t know how.”
He had copied my signature from an old holiday card.
Aunt Melissa notarized it.
But Jason claimed Diane pressured him.
“She said if I didn’t get the loan, Dad would lose the house again.”
I stared.
“The house wasn’t even his to lose.”
“I know that now.”
“Did you?”
He lowered his head.
“I didn’t ask.”
There it was.
The family disease.
Not asking because the answer might interfere with what they wanted.
Jason agreed to cooperate with the lender.
Agreed to repay the loan from his inheritance once released.
Agreed to sign a statement clearing the title.
It might save him from severe charges.
Maybe.
Then my attorney entered with news.
Dad had requested a private meeting with prosecutors.
He wanted immunity.
In exchange, he was willing to testify against Diane.
Diane laughed when she heard.
Then said something none of us expected.
“He can’t.”
“Why not?” I asked.
She looked directly at me.
“Because Robert wasn’t the one who killed your mother’s first husband.”
I froze.
“First husband?”
May you like
Mom had been married before Dad.
And that man had died under circumstances nobody had ever told me about.
