Chapter 10 - SOPHIA’S LAST SECRET
Z
Sophia answered my call on the third ring.
“Elena?”
“Where are you?”
Silence.
That told me everything.
“Sophia.”
“You shouldn’t be calling me.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Then give me one reason not to.”
Daniel stood three feet away, watching my face.
Lily had gone to Rebecca’s house under the excuse of a sleepover.
That was becoming another family tradition I hated.
Danger arrived.
Lily got sent somewhere safe.
Adults lied.
History threatened to repeat itself.
“I didn’t send the photograph,” Sophia said.
“Then why were you inside a Whitmore storage facility three days ago?”
More silence.
Daniel reached for my phone.
I stepped away.
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
I put the call on speaker.
Sophia exhaled.
“Daniel is there.”
“Yes.”
“Of course he is.”
Her voice sounded exhausted.
Not guilty.
Worse.
Afraid.
“What did you take?” Daniel asked.
A long pause.
“Something Arthur Whitmore left behind.”
“What?”
“I’m not telling you over the phone.”
“Where are you?”
“No.”
Daniel’s voice hardened.
“Sophia.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“I found a name in Vincent’s prosecution files.”
Daniel went very still.
“What name?”
“Rebecca Hale.”
I stared at him.
He didn’t recognize it either.
Sophia continued.
“She was an accountant for Whitmore Shipping twenty-two years ago.”
“So?”
“So she died twenty-one years ago.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because according to Arthur Whitmore’s private records, she had a son.”
Daniel’s face changed.
Sophia whispered the next words.
“A son Arthur financially supported until the day he died.”
I felt something cold move down my spine.
Daniel’s voice lowered.
“Are you saying my father had another child?”
“I’m saying somebody wanted us to believe that.”
Us.
The word mattered.
“You’ve been investigating this?” I asked.
“For months.”
“Why?”
“Because after Vincent went to prison, somebody started purchasing old Whitmore shell companies.”
Daniel frowned.
“Those companies were dissolved.”
“Most were.”
Sophia continued.
“Four weren’t.”
Daniel crossed to his laptop.
“Names.”
“I’m not giving you anything until we meet.”
“Sophia.”
“I found two people dead after I started asking questions.”
That stopped him.
My skin went cold.
“What people?”
“A retired attorney in Newark and one of Arthur’s former bookkeepers.”
Daniel’s face went expressionless.
“When?”
“Six weeks apart.”
“Why wasn’t I told?”
“Because you got married.”
He stared at the phone.
Sophia gave a humorless laugh.
“For once, Daniel, your life was good. Lily was happy. Elena finally trusted you again.”
“That was not your decision.”
“I know.”
There it was.
The sentence everybody in our story seemed to learn eventually.
I know.
Sophia continued.
“But somebody had to look.”
“You should have told me.”
“Yes.”
Daniel glanced at me.
“And hiding things to protect people tends to go badly in this family.”
I almost smiled despite everything.
Sophia heard it too.
“I deserved that.”
“Where are you?” I asked again.
This time she answered.
“Portland.”
“Which Portland?”
“Oregon.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Why there?”
“Because Rebecca Hale’s son lived there under a different name.”
“Lived?”
“He disappeared four months ago.”
Daniel closed his laptop.
“We’re coming.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“Daniel, if somebody is watching me, bringing Elena anywhere near—”
“Elena decides for herself.”
I looked at him.
A year ago, he would have made the decision.
That mattered.
“I’m coming,” I said.
Sophia sighed.
“I’ll send the location.”
The call ended.
Daniel immediately began packing.
I folded my arms.
“What?”
“You’re not coming.”
I stared at him.
He paused.
Then rubbed his face.
“Right.”
“Excellent growth.”
“Elena, I’m trying.”
“I can see that.”
He zipped a bag aggressively.
I walked closer.
“What do you think this is?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have a theory.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
Daniel looked at the rain streaking our windows.
“If my father had another son, Vincent would have known.”
“And?”
“And Vincent was obsessed with succession.”
“You think he might have hidden another heir.”
“Or created one.”
I frowned.
“Created?”
“Documents. Payments. Records. A false bloodline.”
“Why?”
“To challenge me.”
I understood.
“Someone who could claim Arthur wanted him to inherit.”
“Yes.”
“But the organization is gone.”
“Legitimate assets aren’t.”
Whitmore Holdings still controlled billions.
Daniel no longer ran the criminal world.
Money, however, survived morality remarkably well.
“If this man is real,” I said, “what could he claim?”
“Depends on what Arthur left.”
“The missing archive item.”
Daniel nodded.
“What do you think was in it?”
His jaw tightened.
“My father’s private succession documents.”
I stared.
“Meaning?”
“A sealed declaration of who inherited what if he died.”
“Didn’t you already inherit?”
“Yes.”
“Then how could there be a problem?”
“Because the public will I received wasn’t the only document Arthur prepared.”
I laughed without humor.
“Of course it wasn’t.”
Daniel looked apologetic.
“My family had trust issues.”
“No.”
I pointed at him.
“Your family weaponized paperwork.”
That almost got a smile.
Almost.
Then his expression became serious.
“If somebody has a document naming another heir, they could create years of litigation.”
“And destroy the company.”
“Or seize part of it.”
I thought about Lily.
“Could they come after her inheritance?”
Daniel didn’t answer quickly enough.
My anger ignited.
“Daniel.”
“Yes.”
That one word changed everything.
I walked to the table and grabbed my coat.
“We leave in ten minutes.”
“Elena.”
“No.”
“You don’t know what we’re walking into.”
“Neither do you.”
“I can protect—”
“If you finish that sentence, I’m driving separately.”
His mouth closed.
Good choice.
Three hours later, we were on a private flight to Oregon.
I hated private planes.
Daniel hated commercial airports.
Marriage required compromise.
By the time we landed, Sophia had sent an address to an old motel outside Portland.
When we arrived, her room door stood open.
Daniel immediately moved in front of me.
I ignored him and entered beside him.
The room was empty.
A lamp had been knocked over.
A chair lay on its side.
On the bed sat a leather folder.
Daniel opened it.
Inside were photocopied bank records.
Birth certificates.
Photographs.
And one sealed letter.
Daniel picked it up.
His name was written across the front.
DANIEL ARTHUR WHITMORE.
He stared at the handwriting.
“My father.”
I felt my stomach drop.
He opened it.
The letter contained only three lines.
Daniel read them silently.
Then again.
“What does it say?”
His eyes lifted to mine.
For the first time since the Plaza, I saw genuine fear.
“My father wrote that if I ever received this letter, I was supposed to trust Rebecca Hale’s son.”
I swallowed.
“Why?”
Daniel handed me the paper.
May you like
The final sentence was underlined twice.
Because if Vincent succeeds, your brother may be the only person who can keep you alive.
