Chapter 8 - The Offer My Father Refused
My father had refused financial help from Vincent Graham.
Now I needed to know why.
I stood outside Vincent's private office at the Continental with the letter clenched in my fist.
Levi was no longer allowed inside the building while investigators examined his activities.
Walter had been placed on administrative leave.
And for the first time, the club felt strangely quiet.
Vincent opened the door himself.
He wasn't wearing a suit.
Just a dark sweater and black trousers.
Without his bodyguards crowding the hallway, he looked almost ordinary.
Almost.
"Katie."
I held up the letter.
"Why did you offer to pay for my father's treatment?"
His expression changed.
"Where did you find that?"
"His medical records."
Vincent stepped aside.
"Come in."
I remained in the doorway.
"Answer me first."
He nodded.
"Fair enough."
Then he took a breath.
"Michael Young saved my wife's life once."
I stared.
"What?"
"Before Eleanor died, she became seriously ill during a charity event. Your father recognized something was wrong and got her medical attention."
I remembered Dad mentioning an emergency at a gala.
He'd never said whose life he'd helped save.
Vincent continued.
"Eleanor wanted to repay him. He refused."
"That sounds like Dad."
Vincent nodded.
"Years later, when I learned he was sick, I contacted the hospital anonymously."
I looked at the letter.
"Why anonymously?"
"Because your father wouldn't accept help from me."
"Why?"
Vincent's expression darkened.
"Because he blamed me for not listening when Eleanor warned me about Levi."
I swallowed.
"Did he?"
"Yes."
The honesty surprised me.
Vincent continued.
"And he was right."
I looked away.
For years, I'd imagined powerful men had simple answers for everything.
Now Vincent Graham was admitting he'd failed the people he loved.
He stepped closer.
"Katie, I can't change what happened to your father."
My eyes filled.
"I know."
"But I can help make sure the records are preserved and the people responsible are investigated."
I studied him.
"Without trying to buy my forgiveness?"
He nodded.
"Without trying to buy anything."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then I noticed something on his desk.
A framed photograph.
Eleanor Graham standing beside a little girl.
The girl looked about eight.
Dark curls.
Gray eyes.
A shy smile.
I frowned.
"Who's that?"
Vincent followed my gaze.
His expression softened.
"My daughter."
I stared.
"You have a daughter?"
He nodded.
"Her name is Amelia."
"How old?"
"Nineteen."
My heart tightened.
Vincent looked toward the photograph.
"She's been living in Boston with Eleanor's parents."
"Why?"
His expression changed.
"Because after Eleanor died, I believed my world was too dangerous for her."
I swallowed.
"Does she visit?"
"Not often."
I looked at him.
Then asked the question nobody in his organization would've dared ask.
"Did you ever consider leaving the world that frightened her?"
Vincent went silent.
For several seconds, he simply stared at me.
Then he nodded.
"Every day."
Before I could answer, his phone rang.
A message appeared.
He read it.
His expression hardened.
"What?" I asked.
Vincent looked toward the door.
"Levi's been arrested."
My heart pounded.
"For what?"
"Financial fraud and obstruction connected to the foundation."
I exhaled.
But Vincent wasn't finished.
He showed me the message.
Investigators had recovered another recording from Levi's private safe.
A conversation from twelve years earlier.
The speakers were Levi and Eleanor.
And the final words on the transcript made my blood run cold.
"If Vincent discovers the girl isn't his, everything falls apart."
I stared at Vincent.
"Amelia?"
May you like
His face went completely white.
Because someone had spent nineteen years hiding the truth about his daughter's identity.
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