Chapter 4 - THE FATHER WHO WASN’T KIDNAPPED
My father had staged his own kidnapping.
That was the first explanation.
It was also the one that made me angriest.
“He let Mom think he was tied to a chair?”
Julian studied the traffic image.
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“We don’t know when the photograph was taken.”
I hated his caution.
“It could be old?”
“Yes.”
“Or staged?”
“Yes.”
“Or he escaped?”
“Yes.”
I turned toward him.
“Do you ever answer a question without creating three more?”
“Usually when people stop hiding things.”
Fair.
Mateo remained on speaker.
“Selina’s father is Martin Reed.”
“I know who he is.”
“You know the public version.”
“Apparently nobody in Chicago is who I think they are.”
Martin Reed was chairman of Reed Pension Partners, one of the largest institutional investors in Midwest infrastructure.
He had injected money into Vance Group six months earlier.
He was also the man whose daughter my fiancé had kissed.
Perfect.
Julian pulled up corporate records.
“Reed is connected to Meridian.”
“How?”
“His fund bought legacy Meridian debt seven years ago.”
“So he owns it?”
“Partially.”
Mateo said:
“My father is terrified of him.”
That surprised me.
“Your father is terrified of everybody today.”
“No. Martin controls the debt that could bankrupt both families.”
There it was.
The wedding again.
Not romance.
Debt.
Mergers.
Leverage.
I asked Mateo:
“Did Selina know about the fake cheating plan?”
“Yes.”
“Why help you?”
“She hates her father.”
“Everybody hates their father. That’s not a business strategy.”
“She thinks he ruined her mother.”
I frowned.
“How?”
“Her mother died eight years ago. Officially overdose.”
Julian looked up.
“Officially?”
“Selina believes she was about to testify about Meridian.”
The room went silent.
Julian said:
“I need to talk to Selina.”
Mateo answered:
“She won’t trust you.”
“She kissed you in front of thirty witnesses.”
“She barely trusts me.”
I rubbed my temples.
My engagement had somehow evolved into a network of dead parents, fake kidnappings, shell companies, and people weaponizing romantic relationships for financial warfare.
Then my mother called.
This time she was crying.
“Daniela.”
“Where is Dad?”
“I don’t know.”
“You received a kidnapping photo.”
Silence.
“Mateo told me.”
“Of course he did.”
“Mom.”
“He was taken last night.”
“We have footage of him walking into Martin Reed’s SUV this morning.”
She stopped breathing.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because Martin called me twenty minutes ago.”
I looked at Julian.
“What did he say?”
“He said your father is dead.”
Everything inside me went quiet.
“Mom.”
“He said if I want the body, I give him the ledger.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“Put Teresa on speaker.”
I did.
“Mrs. Arriaga, did you see your husband alive after midnight?”
“No.”
“Did the kidnapping image show today’s date?”
“No.”
“Was there metadata?”
“What?”
“Never mind.”
He asked:
“What ledger?”
My mother started crying harder.
“I should have destroyed it years ago.”
“What is it?”
“A handwritten book from Meridian.”
“What does it contain?”
“Payments. Real beneficiaries. Political names. Contractors. Judges. Union officials.”
I felt sick.
“Why do you have it?”
“Your father gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Twelve years ago.”
The night Julian was attacked.
Everything came back there.
Always.
“He told me to hide it because Meridian was becoming dangerous.”
“Then why steal Julian’s flash drive?”
“Because the flash drive pointed to the ledger.”
“Why give it to Camille Vance?”
“I trusted her.”
I almost laughed.
“Apparently everyone trusted everyone except their own children.”
My mother ignored that.
She continued:
“Camille and I planned to go to federal investigators.”
“What happened?”
“Your father stopped us.”
“Why?”
“He said people would die.”
“Did they?”
Silence.
“Yes.”
Julian’s expression darkened.
“Who?”
My mother whispered:
“His brother.”
I froze.
“My father doesn’t have a brother.”
“He did.”
Another family secret.
Of course.
“Name?”
“Rafael.”
I had never heard it.
“Why didn’t I know?”
“He died when you were nine.”
“How?”
“Construction accident.”
Julian said:
“Meridian?”
My mother sobbed.
“Yes.”
Rafael Arriaga had discovered one of Meridian’s contractors was using substandard structural steel on a public parking complex.
He threatened to report it.
Three days later, he died at a construction site.
Officially, equipment failure.
Afterward, my father stopped fighting Meridian publicly.
He joined it.
Not because he believed in it.
Because fear won.
“At least that’s what he told me,” my mother whispered.
I heard the doubt.
“You don’t believe him anymore.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because six months ago, I found transfers.”
“What transfers?”
“From Meridian accounts.”
“To Dad?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
She whispered:
“Forty-two million dollars.”
My stomach dropped.
My father had not merely been trapped.
He had profited.
Then Julian’s phone vibrated.
His security team had traced Martin Reed’s SUV.
It entered an underground garage beneath an abandoned financial building on Wacker Drive.
No exit recorded.
Julian stood.
“We’re going.”
I stared.
“You just told me anger isn’t courage.”
“It isn’t.”
“Then why are you going?”
“Because your father may be alive.”
“Then I’m coming.”
“No.”
I gave him a look.
He stopped.
“Right. Apparently we’ve established how you feel about orders.”
“Good.”
Twenty minutes later, we were in Julian’s armored SUV.
As we approached the building, my phone received a message from Dad’s number.
One photograph.
My father sitting inside a dark room.
Alive.
Holding today’s newspaper.
Below it:
DANIELA, DO NOT TRUST JULIAN STERLING.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
HE IS THE REASON RAFAEL DIED.
