PART4

“The official books show one thing. The other records show different payments, different suppliers, and several transfers that don’t appear anywhere in the official reports.”

I gripped my phone.

“Do you know where the money went?”

“I don’t know everything. But I saw your mother’s company name on several transactions.”

My throat went dry.

“Bennett Luxury Holdings?”

Daniel was silent.

Then he answered.

“Yes.”

I looked at Rachel.

She immediately began writing something down.

“Daniel, can you preserve those records?”

“I already made copies of the documents I was authorized to access. I was worried something might happen to the originals.”

“Thank you.”

Before hanging up, he added one more thing.

“Emily?”

“Yes?”

“Your father has been telling people you’re mentally unstable. He’s saying you need help managing your finances.”

I stared at the wall.

That was when I realized the situation was even more serious than I had imagined.

My father wasn’t simply trying to avoid responsibility.

He was preparing to destroy my credibility before I could expose him.

Two days later, the first formal letter arrived.

Rachel had sent notices requesting a complete accounting of the transactions connected to my personal accounts and any financial obligations allegedly authorized by me.

My parents received theirs.

So did Bennett Construction.

And so did Bennett Luxury Holdings.

I wasn’t at the estate when the letters arrived, but I didn’t need to be.

Madison made sure I knew.

She called me seventeen times.

I answered the eighteenth.

“Emily, what is wrong with you?”

“Hello to you too, Madison.”

“Mom is crying! Dad hasn’t slept! There are lawyers calling the house, and everyone is asking questions!”

“That’s what happens when financial records need explaining.”

“You’re trying to ruin us!”

I almost admired how confidently she could say that.

“Madison, do you remember asking me to leave my credit card behind?”

“Oh my God. You’re still talking about that?”

“Yes. I am.”

“You’re acting like some victim. You’ve always had more money than us!”

“Having money doesn’t mean I owe it to you.”

She scoffed.

“Mom says you’re doing all this because you’re jealous of my engagement.”

I closed my eyes.

There it was.

The jewelry.

The $48,000 purchase.

The engagement that apparently justified using my money without permission.

“Madison, are you actually engaged?”

Silence.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one.”

“Of course I am!”

“What’s his name?”

She hesitated.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve never introduced him to me.”

“That’s none of your business.”

I almost smiled.

“Then neither is my money.”

I ended the call.

But something about her hesitation stayed with me.

I opened my laptop and searched for the name of the jewelry store that had attempted the $48,000 transaction.

Then I found the purchase reservation.

The item wasn’t an engagement ring.

It was a diamond necklace and matching bracelet set.

The delivery address was not Madison’s apartment.

It was Bennett Luxury Holdings.

And the person listed as the purchaser was my mother.

I forwarded the records to Rachel.

Her response came almost immediately.

Interesting. We need to investigate the recipient and the purpose of the purchase.

For the first time in days, I felt something other than anger.

I felt clarity.

On Friday evening, I received an unexpected visitor.

It was Daniel.

He stood outside my apartment holding a brown envelope.

“I’m sorry to come without calling,” he said.

“It’s okay. Come in.”

He looked exhausted.

After sitting down, he placed the envelope on the table.

“I brought something I think you should see.”

I opened it.

Inside were copies of company invoices, bank transfers, and several internal emails.

I began reading.

One invoice showed a payment of $180,000 to a supplier.

Another showed a transfer of $95,000 to Bennett Luxury Holdings.

A third showed a payment of $60,000 to a company I had never heard of.

I looked up.

“What’s this company?”

Daniel swallowed.

“That’s the strange part. We couldn’t find an actual office for it. It appears to be registered to an address belonging to a private mailbox service.”

“Who owns it?”

He shook his head.

“We don’t know yet.”

I continued reading.

Then I reached the last page.

It was an email from my father.

The subject line read:

Emily’s Financial Authorization.

My heart began beating faster.

The message was dated six months earlier.

It contained instructions to prepare documents using my name and to make sure the authorization appeared consistent with previous banking records.

I read the message twice.

Then a third time.

“Daniel, who sent this?”

He pointed to the bottom.

My father’s email address.

And the recipient was my mother’s personal assistant.

I felt sick.

There was no longer any reasonable explanation for what I was seeing.

“Did you tell anyone about this?”

“No. I didn’t know who I could trust.”

I looked at him.

“You can trust the truth.”

He nodded.

Then he reached into his jacket and removed another folded sheet.

“There’s one more thing.”

I opened it.

It was a calendar entry.

A private meeting scheduled for the following Monday.

The attendees included my father, my mother, and a man named Victor Hale.

I recognized that name.

Victor was the attorney who had helped establish some of the family’s business arrangements years earlier.

But what caught my attention wasn’t his name.

It was the meeting title.

Emily’s Remaining Assets — Transfer Strategy.

I slowly raised my eyes.

“They were planning to take something else?”

Daniel looked uncomfortable.

“Emily, I think they were planning to use your name to secure another property transaction.”

My hands went cold.

“What property?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know. But I heard your father say something about a lakefront estate worth nearly $2 million.”

I stared at the calendar entry.

The family had thrown me out.

They had cancelled my place at their dinner table.

They had told me I was no longer their daughter.

Yet they were still discussing how to use my identity to obtain more money.

Something inside me finally changed.

I wasn’t going to spend another night wondering how I could repair this family.

I was going to make sure they could never use me again.

The following Monday morning, Rachel and I arrived at her office before nine.

She had arranged for a forensic accountant to review the documents Daniel had provided.

We spent nearly four hours going through the records.

Then the accountant stopped at one particular transaction.

“Ms. Bennett, can you explain this transfer?”

I leaned forward.

“What am I looking at?”

He pointed to a payment made fourteen months earlier.

$325,000.

The money had come from a business account I had personally funded to help my father complete a construction project.

But the recipient wasn’t a supplier.

It wasn’t a contractor.

It wasn’t even a legitimate construction company, according to the preliminary information.

It was an account connected to a private investment trust.

Rachel looked at me.

“Do you recognize the name of the beneficiary?”

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART5…