Chapter 6 - Shadows of the Past
The fallout from the boardroom arrests sent shockwaves through our extended family and the local business community.
Within twenty-four hours, search warrants were executed on Mason's luxury apartment in San Francisco and a private safety deposit box registered under Rosalind's name at a San Diego bank.
The police recovered all five gold bars, $420,000 of the stolen cash, and the original incorporation documents. The remaining $80,000 had already been wired to an illegal sports-betting bookmaker in Nevada—an act that triggered secondary federal wire-fraud charges against Mason.
On Thursday afternoon, I sat in the private office of my attorney, Marcus Vance.
"Ethan," Marcus said, laying a yellowed paper folder on his desk. "While preparing the civil recovery lawsuit against your mother and brother, my private investigators uncovered something else from your family's records in San Diego."
I frowned, setting my coffee cup down. "What is it?"
"Twelve years ago," Marcus explained, pulling out an old medical examiner's report from 2014, "when your father passed away from a sudden 'accidental overdose' of prescription painkillers, your mother collected a $750,000 life insurance payout."
My heart skipped a beat. "My father died of late-stage liver cancer, Marcus."
"That was the narrative your mother told you while you were away at college," Marcus said grimly. "In reality, the coroner's report flagged high concentrations of synthetic sedatives in his system. But because your father was terminally ill, no criminal investigation was launched, and the policy paid out directly to Rosalind."
Marcus looked me in the eye.
"Do you know where that $750,000 went, Ethan?"
"She told me she spent it on his medical bills and funeral costs," I whispered, a sickening realization forming in the back of my mind.
"She transferred $700,000 directly to Mason's first failed business venture in 2015," Marcus revealed. "She emptied your father's life insurance to finance Mason, leaving you to work three jobs to pay for your own tuition and support Daphne."
I sat in the quiet office, staring at the paper.
All those years, I had blamed myself for not being there enough for my father. I had carried a mountain of guilt, believing I hadn't worked hard enough to provide for my parents. I had welcomed Rosalind into my home, given her $5,000 a month, and tolerated her subtle insults because I thought I was making up for my past shortcomings.
She had played me for a fool my entire adult life.
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"They aren't just greedy, Ethan," Marcus said softly. "They are financial predators who view you as an endless bank account and Mason as the golden child who can do no wrong."
"They won't get another cent," I said, my voice cold, calm, and absolute. "Not a single cent."
