Chapter 7 - THE FATHER WHO WASN'T TELLING THE WHOLE TRUTH
:
My father had been dead for eleven years.
Yet someone was using his private account.
The transaction history showed monthly deposits.
Tiny amounts.
Always under five hundred dollars.
The account had been active for years.
We traced the first deposit.
It happened seven months before I met Marcus.
Then another clue surfaced.
A storage facility.
Paid monthly.
In cash.
Under my father's name.
I went there with Claire and Natalie.
The manager checked the records.
Then led us to a unit at the back.
Inside were boxes.
Photographs.
Medical records.
Old legal papers.
And a videotape.
I found a player.
The screen flickered.
My father appeared.
Older.
Tired.
But alive in the recording.
“Renee,” he said.
I cried immediately.
“If you found this, the family has failed you.”
Claire stood beside me.
My father continued.
“I knew Marcus was dangerous.”
He paused.
“But I didn't know how far he'd go.”
I leaned closer.
“I left you the property because it was the safest asset I could control.”
“Not because I wanted you rich.”
My father smiled.
“I wanted you free.”
Then he said something that changed everything.
“The house contains the original Redwood records.”
I stared.
Not just my family's records.
Redwood Capital's original ownership records.
My father had secretly obtained them.
The files could expose an international financial network.
Marcus wasn't the mastermind.
He was one employee.
Dolores was another.
But who controlled Redwood?
My father's next sentence answered it.
“It is someone you know.”
The screen went black.
Claire looked at me.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Natalie searched the files.
Then found a hidden photograph.
My father standing beside a man.
I recognized him immediately.
My uncle.
My mother's brother.
Uncle David.
But he had supposedly died twenty years ago.
Claire stared.
“He isn't dead.”
“What?”
“He changed identities.”
“Why?”
“He created Redwood.”
My heart stopped.
Everything shifted.
The family feud.
The stolen money.
The house.
The trust.
Marcus wasn't the mastermind.
Dolores wasn't.
Tyler certainly wasn't.
My uncle was.
A man who had spent decades pretending to be dead.
We found his current identity.
David Mercer.
He lived in Nevada.
He owned multiple businesses.
He had never been arrested.
Never been investigated.
And he had been moving money through Redwood for years.
I called him.
He answered.
“Renee.”
I froze.
“How do you know?”
“I've been waiting.”
“What do you want?”
“The house.”
“No.”
“The trust.”
“No.”
“The records.”
“No.”
He laughed.
“Then you don't understand.”
“Explain.”
“Your father stole from me.”
“He protected my family.”
“He betrayed his.”
My heart pounded.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father wasn't supposed to marry your mother.”
Silence.
“He was supposed to marry mine.”
I frowned.
“My father had only one wife.”
“That's what you were told.”
He continued.
“The Hale family was built on a secret marriage.”
I stared at Claire.
“What does that mean?”
David answered:
“Your father had a first family.”
My blood ran cold.
“Children?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
I couldn't breathe.
My uncle wasn't my mother's brother.
He was my father's son.
My whole family tree had been wrong.
And if David was my father's son—
then Claire wasn't my sister through the same parent.
We had two separate bloodlines.
The trust wasn't based on blood.
It was based on legal succession.
David wanted the trust because he believed he was the rightful heir.
Then he said:
“There is one thing you don't know.”
“What?”
“Your father wasn't the original owner of the house.”
I frowned.
“Who was?”
May you like
He laughed.
“Your mother.”
