Chapter 9 - THE ROOM HIS FATHER NEVER WANTED OPENED
Vincent Duca's private study had remained locked since his death.
For ten years, Adrienne hadn't entered it.
His father had been a complicated man.
Powerful.
Feared.
And determined to keep his family's secrets buried.
But now Victoria was searching for something inside that room.
Adrienne met Detective Mitchell and Rebecca at the mansion.
Clare chose to attend with her attorney.
She wasn't coming home.
She was coming to protect her father's legacy.
When Adrienne saw her, his expression softened.
"Clare."
She nodded.
"Let's get this over with."
He didn't argue.
The study stood at the end of a long hallway.
Its heavy oak door was covered in dust.
Marco examined the lock.
"It hasn't been opened recently."
Adrienne held up a key recovered from Victoria's desk.
"Then let's find out what my father was hiding."
The lock turned.
The door opened.
Inside, everything remained exactly as Vincent had left it.
A dark wooden desk.
Leather chairs.
Bookshelves.
A large portrait above the fireplace.
Clare stepped inside.
The room smelled of old paper and cedar.
Adrienne walked toward the desk.
"My father used to work here every evening."
Clare looked toward the shelves.
"Did he ever mention my father?"
Adrienne shook his head.
"Not that I remember."
Rebecca began examining the filing cabinets.
Detective Mitchell directed the evidence collection.
Then Clare noticed something strange.
A small brass plaque beneath the portrait.
Its inscription read:
HONOR THE MEN WHO BUILT THIS HOUSE.
She frowned.
"Adrienne."
He turned.
"What?"
"Your father didn't build this house alone."
Adrienne approached.
"What do you mean?"
Clare pointed toward the plaque.
"My father worked with Vincent on several early investments."
Adrienne stared.
"How do you know?"
"Dad told me once that he helped finance a property acquisition in Manhattan."
She looked around.
"Could this be the property?"
Adrienne examined the plaque.
Then pressed a small button beneath the frame.
A quiet click sounded.
The portrait shifted outward.
Behind it was a narrow compartment.
Inside lay a black leather folder.
Clare's heart raced.
Adrienne carefully removed it after the detective documented the compartment.
The folder contained original partnership agreements.
Bennett Financial Group.
Duca Holdings.
Vincent Duca.
Michael Bennett.
Clare stared.
"My father."
Adrienne opened another document.
It showed that Michael Bennett had supplied substantial capital when Vincent's businesses faced financial trouble.
In exchange, Michael received an ownership interest that later became part of Clare's inheritance.
Rebecca studied the paperwork.
"This may establish the origin of the shares."
Then Clare noticed a sealed letter.
It was addressed to her.
CLARE BENNETT — OPEN ON YOUR THIRTIETH BIRTHDAY.
Her hands trembled.
Adrienne looked at her.
"That's tomorrow."
She nodded.
With Rebecca and the detective present, Clare opened the envelope.
Inside was a letter from her father.
My darling Clare,
If you're reading this, you've reached the age when I hoped you'd be ready to understand why I protected our family's investments.
Tears filled her eyes.
She continued.
Vincent Duca and I built something important together. But after his death, I discovered that someone close to his family was falsifying financial records.
Clare swallowed.
The next sentence made her heart stop.
The person I suspected was Victoria Duca.
She looked toward Adrienne.
His face had gone pale.
Clare continued reading.
If Victoria ever accuses you of dishonesty, remember that she has spent years hiding her own.
Then she reached the final paragraph.
There is one more secret, Clare.
Your mother didn't die when you were a baby.
May you like
Clare stopped breathing.
Because she'd spent her entire life believing her mother was dead.
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