Chapter 9 - WHAT THE HOUSE WAS HIDING
Weeks passed.
The investigation became national news.
Blackwood's network collapsed.
Camille pleaded guilty.
Daniel was arrested overseas.
The forged documents were invalidated.
And my home was legally returned to me.
But I couldn't live there.
Not yet.
Every room reminded me of Marcus.
The bedroom.
The dining room.
The fireplace.
The night I saw Camille wearing my robe.
One evening, I returned alone.
I walked upstairs.
Then I noticed something.
The wedding photograph was still sitting on the mantel.
I picked it up.
Behind the frame was a small envelope.
My father's handwriting.
I opened it.
Naomi, if you ever reach this point, you need to know one final truth.
I kept reading.
The house was never the real inheritance.
My heart began racing.
Underneath the letter was another document.
A property map.
The house sat on land purchased by my grandfather nearly seventy years earlier.
But beneath it was something else.
Mineral rights.
Water rights.
Development rights.
The land was worth more than the house.
Much more.
Blackwood hadn't wanted my home.
They wanted the land beneath it.
And my father had known.
I sat down.
Then Marcus appeared in the doorway.
He didn't come closer.
“I'll leave.”
I looked at him.
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father told me not to.”
I laughed.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
Marcus looked at the floor.
“I know I hurt you.”
“Yes.”
“I can't undo it.”
“No.”
“But I can spend the rest of my life proving that what I felt for you was real.”
I stared at him.
“I don't know if I can trust you.”
“I don't expect you to.”
He turned to leave.
“Marcus.”
He stopped.
I looked at the wedding photograph.
“Sit down.”
He did.
For the first time in months, we talked.
No lies.
No secrets.
No manipulation.
Just two people trying to understand what had happened to them.
It wasn't forgiveness.
Not yet.
But it was a beginning.
Then my phone rang.
My father's number.
I answered.
His voice was urgent.
“Naomi, leave the house.”
I stood.
“Why?”
“Because Blackwood wasn't working alone.”
A pause.
“Someone inside your family gave him everything.”
My blood went cold.
“Who?”
May you like
My father whispered:
“Your uncle.”
