Chapter 8 - THE MANAGER WHO HAD BEEN WATCHING ME
I had spent two years and four months believing Trent Mallory hated me because I was a waitress who refused to stay silent.
Now I knew there was another reason.
He knew my grandmother.
He knew the Rahal family.
And he had been watching me long before Kareem walked into the restaurant.
"Trent," I said carefully, "what do you want?"
His voice trembled.
"Listen to me, Nia. You're in danger."
I looked at Kareem.
"From whom?"
"My father."
Silence.
Trent continued.
"Victor Mallory isn't the retired businessman everyone thinks he is."
Kareem leaned closer to the phone.
"Then tell us who he really is."
Trent went quiet.
"Mr. Rahal?"
"Yes."
A long pause followed.
Then Trent whispered:
"I never wanted any of this."
Kareem's expression hardened.
"Then start telling the truth."
Trent took a shaky breath.
"My father worked with your brother before the warehouse explosion."
"We know."
"He stole money from the company and blamed Farid."
Kareem stared.
"How much?"
"Nearly forty million dollars."
Omar looked up sharply.
Trent continued.
"When Farid discovered the theft, my father arranged for someone to silence him."
I felt sick.
"Did your father cause the explosion?"
Trent's voice broke.
"He ordered it."
Nobody spoke.
Kareem closed his eyes.
For thirty-eight years, his brother had been branded a criminal.
Now the truth was emerging.
Trent continued.
"My father believed Farid died. When he learned Samira had escaped, he spent years searching for her."
I thought of Grandma's quiet life in Queens.
Her fear whenever unfamiliar cars parked outside.
The way she'd always checked the locks twice.
"Did he find her?"
"Not until three years ago."
My heart stopped.
Three years ago.
The year Grandma died.
"What happened?" I whispered.
Trent hesitated.
"Nia..."
"Tell me."
"My father found out where she lived."
I struggled to breathe.
"Did he hurt her?"
"I don't know."
I closed my eyes.
Grandma's death had been attributed to a stroke.
She was seventy-nine.
The doctors said it happened naturally.
But now...
I couldn't stop wondering.
Kareem spoke.
"Trent, where is your father?"
Another long silence.
Then Trent answered.
"I can't tell you over the phone."
"Why?"
"Because he's monitoring my calls."
My stomach tightened.
Trent continued.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Your grandmother didn't die without leaving evidence."
I looked at the brass key.
"We found her storage compartment."
"Not that evidence."
I froze.
"Then what?"
Trent whispered:
"She left a video."
My heart pounded.
"Where?"
"At the restaurant."
Kareem straightened.
"Explain."
Trent took a breath.
"She came to the Bellweather Room three years ago. She knew my father used the restaurant for private meetings."
I stared.
Grandma had been inside the same restaurant where I worked.
Before I was hired.
Trent continued.
"She recorded a conversation with him."
I whispered:
"What conversation?"
May you like
His answer made my entire body go cold.
"The conversation where Victor admitted he ordered the deaths of your mother and Farid Rahal."
