PART8

“Your father is gone.”

I stood up.

“What do you mean?”

“He left the house this afternoon. He took some documents and his laptop. He hasn’t answered his phone.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“No.”

“Have you contacted him?”

“Twenty times.”

I closed my eyes.

“Mom, what do you want me to do?”

She began crying.

“Please come home.”

I looked at the clock.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what to do.”

I remained silent.

Then she said:

“Edward came here.”

My stomach tightened.

“When?”

“About an hour ago.”

“What did he want?”

“He wanted the money. He said your father promised him everything would be ready by Monday morning.”

“And?”

“He said the documents weren’t valid.”

I sat down slowly.

“What documents?”

“The property papers. He said your grandmother’s trust was still active.”

I looked at Laura, who was sitting across the office.

She immediately understood.

My mother continued.

“Chloe, he said your father lied to him.”

I said nothing.

“He said Richard had no right to offer the property. He was furious.”

“Did he threaten you?”

She began crying harder.

“He said he wanted his money back.”

I closed my eyes.

This was no longer simply a family argument.

There were investors who might have lost money because of false promises.

There was a property that needed protection.

And there was a family that had finally discovered that actions had consequences.

“Mom, listen to me.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t sign anything. Don’t transfer money. Don’t meet Edward alone. If he contacts you again, save every message and tell the authorities if you feel threatened.”

“Can you help us?”

“I can help make sure the situation is handled properly. But I cannot make the debt disappear.”

She was quiet.

Then she whispered:

“I know.”

For the first time, I heard something different in her voice.

Not anger.

Not entitlement.

Fear.

And perhaps a little regret.

“Chloe?”

“Yes?”

“Your grandmother was right about you.”

I looked away.

“What did Grandma say?”

My mother took a shaky breath.

“She told me once that you were the only person in this family who understood what money was for.”

I didn’t respond.

“She said you would build something meaningful if we stopped trying to control you.”

My throat tightened.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

My mother began crying again.

“Because I was afraid your father would turn against me.”

I closed my eyes.

There were a thousand things I wanted to say.

But none of them would change seven years.

“Mom, I have to go.”

“Chloe…”

“Goodnight.”

I ended the call.

The following morning, Monday, arrived with a series of events none of us could have predicted.

At 8:30 a.m., Laura received confirmation that the trust’s ownership documents had been verified.

At 9:05 a.m., Northbridge’s investors were formally notified that the company had no authority to sell or mortgage the property.

At 9:42 a.m., Daniel discovered that the $1.1 million payment was not going to the property owner or any legitimate construction contractor.

It was supposed to be transferred to a company controlled by an associate of Edward Voss.

And at 10:13 a.m., my father walked into the hotel.

Alone.

He looked different.

His suit was wrinkled.

His hair was disheveled.

His face was pale.

Thomas called my office.

“Ms. Arístegui, your father is here.”

I looked at Laura.

She closed the folder.

“Do you want me present?”

“Yes.”

We went downstairs together.

Richard was standing near the reception desk.

When he saw me, he approached immediately.

“Chloe.”

“Good morning, Dad.”

“We need to talk.”

“We can talk here, or in my office with my attorney.”

He glanced at Laura.

“Why is she here?”

“Because this involves property, financial agreements, and my legal interests.”

He rubbed his face.

“Fine.”

We walked into the private meeting room.

My father sat down.

For several seconds, he didn’t speak.

Then he finally said:

“I need you to transfer the money.”

I stared at him.

“You’re still asking?”

“Edward is threatening us.”

“Then you need to speak to your attorney.”

“I don’t have time for that.”

“You’ve had months.”

He looked at me.

“Chloe, you don’t understand.”

“Then explain.”

He leaned forward.

“I borrowed money.”

“From whom?”

“Private investors.”

“How much?”

He swallowed.

“About three hundred thousand dollars.”

I waited.

“And?”

“I promised them a return.”

“Using what as security?”

He didn’t answer.

I already knew.

“Grandma’s property?”

He nodded.

I looked at him.

“How?”

He rubbed his forehead.

“I thought I could complete the transfer.”

“Without the beneficiary’s permission?”

“Your grandmother was my mother!”

“That doesn’t give you ownership.”

His eyes flashed.

“Don’t lecture me!”

I remained calm.

“Then stop asking me to clean up your mistakes.”

He stared at the table.

For the first time in my life, I saw my father looking genuinely defeated.

He had spent decades believing that authority could solve any problem.

But money didn’t care who he was.

Contracts didn’t care that he was someone’s father.

And ownership didn’t change simply because he wanted it to.

“Chloe,” he said quietly.

I waited.

“I made a mistake.”

I didn’t answer.

He continued.

“I thought I could fix the business. I thought the development would make enough money to repay everyone.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked at me.

“Because you would have said no.”

“Correct.”

His jaw tightened.

Then he looked away.

“I didn’t think it would go this far.”

I leaned forward.

“Did you know my signature was on the guarantee?”

He didn’t respond.

“Did you know someone had copied it?”

He stared at his hands.

“Yes.”

The room became silent.

Laura immediately wrote something down.

I felt my chest tighten.

“Who copied it?”

He closed his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He finally looked up.

“Martha had an old copy of your signature.”

My stomach dropped.

“My aunt?”

“She said it would only be used as a draft.”

I stared at him.

“A draft?”

He nodded.

“She told me we would replace it after you agreed to participate.”

I could barely believe what I was hearing.

“So you knew my name was being used without my permission.”

“I thought you would eventually help.”

I stood up.

“That’s enough.”

“Chloe, please.”

“No. You don’t get to call forgery a misunderstanding.”

He looked genuinely shocked by my reaction.

I continued.

“You didn’t ask me. You didn’t tell me. You didn’t even try to contact me until you needed money. You used my name, my grandmother’s property, and my business reputation to convince people you had something you never owned.”

He covered his face.

“I was trying to save the family.”

I looked at him.

“No, Dad. You were trying to save yourself.”

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Then he asked the question I had been waiting for.

“What do you want me to do?”

I looked at Laura.

She answered before I could.

“Your first responsibility is to preserve all documents and cooperate with the investigation. You should not contact investors to make further promises or attempt to transfer any assets.”

My father nodded slowly.

Then he turned toward me.

“Will you help us?”

I thought about my grandmother.

I thought about the four thousand eight hundred dollars I had carried when I left home.

I thought about the cold nights when I wondered whether I had made the right decision.

And I thought about the girl who had secretly paid two semesters of Gabriel’s tuition because she wanted her little brother to have a future.

“I will not give you $1.1 million.”

His shoulders dropped.

“But I will cooperate with the lawyers to protect Grandma’s property and help establish what happened to the investors’ money.”

He looked up.

“You’re willing to do that?”

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART9…