Chapter 4 - THE AFFAIR THAT WAS NEVER AN ACCIDENT
I looked at Vanessa.
For the first time since waking beside her, I felt something colder than guilt.
Humiliation.
“You were hired?”
She started crying.
“Daniel—”
“Answer.”
“Yes.”
The word landed cleanly.
Claire kept the gun lowered.
Not threatening.
Just prepared.
“By Peter?” I asked.
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Your father.”
I laughed.
My father had been dead four years.
“Try again.”
Claire spoke.
“He hired her before he died.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
My father, Robert Morgan, founded the company.
Demanding.
Controlling.
Brilliant.
He never trusted Peter.
He never trusted me either.
Apparently, he had reason.
Vanessa had been working in corporate events when Robert approached her.
Not to seduce me.
At first.
To observe both sons.
Report meetings.
Who visited Peter.
What I signed.
Whether Peter was manipulating me.
After Robert died, the payments continued through a private trust.
“Who controlled the trust?” I asked.
Claire answered:
“Patricia.”
My divorce attorney?
No.
Claire's attorney.
Patricia Holloway.
That made no sense.
“Why would my father use Claire's future attorney?”
Claire looked at me.
“Because Patricia represented him privately for fifteen years.”
Another secret.
Vanessa continued.
After Robert's death, instructions changed.
Peter became more aggressive.
The trust directed her to get closer to me.
“Why?”
“To find out whether you were involved.”
“In Peter's theft?”
“Yes.”
“So sleeping with me was evidence collection?”
“No.”
Her face crumpled.
“That part became real.”
I almost laughed.
Of course.
Everyone in my life apparently had mixed business with betrayal.
Claire looked away.
I asked:
“When did you know?”
“About Vanessa working for your father? Four months ago.”
“About the affair?”
“Eight months.”
My chest tightened.
Eight months.
She had eaten dinner with me.
Slept beside me.
Asked about work.
All while knowing.
“Why didn't you confront me?”
Claire's expression changed.
“Because the affair stopped being the biggest problem.”
That hurt.
Accurately.
She stepped toward the laptop.
“Owen's ledger implicated Peter, several board members, Arthur, and three city officials.”
“And me?”
She looked at me.
“Your negligence.”
“Not fraud?”
“I couldn't prove intent.”
“Because there was none.”
“Maybe.”
That “maybe” made me furious.
Then I remembered every contract I signed without reading.
Every time Peter said trust me.
Every time Claire asked what was happening at work and I told her she wouldn't understand.
Maybe innocence required more than not asking questions.
Claire continued.
“Your father suspected Peter before he died.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“He tried.”
I almost shouted.
“No.”
“He left you a file.”
“I never got one.”
“Exactly.”
Silence.
Peter intercepted it.
Arthur apparently helped.
Claire discovered the reference inside Robert's estate correspondence.
“What was in the file?”
Claire reached into her coat.
Pulled out an envelope.
My father's handwriting.
DANIEL - READ BEFORE SIGNING ANYTHING PETER BRINGS YOU.
I opened it.
Inside was a letter dated five years earlier.
Daniel,
Your brother believes intelligence is the same as entitlement. Your weakness is different. You prefer comfort over scrutiny.
My father always did know how to insult efficiently.
Then came the warning.
Peter has been moving money. I don't yet know how much.
And one final sentence:
If anything happens to me before I finish this, do not assume my heart failed naturally.
I stopped breathing.
My father died of a heart attack.
At home.
May you like
Peter had found him.
And Peter had refused an autopsy.
