PART6

“We’re still tracing it.”

“Who sent it?”

“The same business entity.”

I stared at the numbers.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“Because you weren’t supposed to know.”

I felt something inside me break.

Not because of the money.

Because of the betrayal.

Richard had sat across from me five years earlier and said:

“Dad, I’m doing this because I don’t want you to lose everything.”

I had believed him.

I had thanked him.

I had signed.

And all along, he had been planning around an asset he expected to become valuable.

Larry leaned forward.

“There’s one more thing.”

I looked at him.

“The $480,000 wasn’t the only payment.”

He opened his laptop.

“There were four.”

I stared at the screen.

$480,000.

$75,000.

$110,000.

$60,000.

Total: $725,000.

“All paid to accounts associated with your wife or your son’s company.”

I couldn’t speak.

Larry closed the laptop.

“Boris, I don’t know whether every transaction was connected to the property. But the timing is extremely concerning.”

I stood up.

“I need to talk to Caroline.”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because if she knows we discovered this, she may destroy evidence.”

I sat back down.

Larry’s expression hardened.

“We need records before confrontation.”

I nodded.

For the first time, I understood something about the last five years.

Richard hadn’t been waiting for the property to become valuable.

He had been preparing for it.

And I had been unknowingly paying the taxes on the asset he planned to control.

That afternoon, Melissa came to the hospital.

She brought groceries, a clean shirt, and a small notebook.

“You’re supposed to rest,” she said.

“I know.”

“You’re terrible at it.”

I smiled.

She sat beside me.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Something happened?”

I looked at her.

I wanted to tell her everything.

But she had already sacrificed enough.

“Larry found some documents.”

“What kind?”

“About the property.”

She looked nervous.

“Is there a problem?”

“There might be.”

She reached for my hand.

“Whatever happens, we handle it together.”

I smiled.

“Where did you learn that?”

She shrugged.

“From you.”

I looked down.

For years, I had wondered whether all the sacrifices I made for my children had mattered.

At that moment, I knew they had.

Not because Melissa had money.

She didn’t.

Not because she had power.

She didn’t.

But because when the world became difficult, she didn’t ask what she could gain.

She asked what she could give.

Then her phone rang.

She glanced at the screen.

“It’s Mom.”

She answered.

“Hi, Mom.”

I watched her expression change.

“What?”

A pause.

“No, I’m not giving you anything.”

Another pause.

“Mom, please don’t do this.”

She looked at me.

Then she hung up.

“What happened?”

“She wants me to come home.”

“Why?”

“She says Richard is there.”

My stomach tightened.

“What does he want?”

Melissa hesitated.

“He wants me to sign something.”

“What?”

“She wouldn’t tell me.”

I immediately reached for my phone.

“Call Larry.”

Melissa stopped me.

“Dad, don’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I already told Mom no.”

I stared at her.

“What exactly did she ask you to sign?”

Melissa pulled a folded document from her purse.

My heart sank.

“She mailed it to my apartment.”

I unfolded it.

It was a release agreement.

The document claimed that Melissa had received the property transfer as a temporary gift and agreed to return ownership if the family reached a “mutually acceptable financial arrangement.”

I looked at the signature line.

Blank.

Melissa hadn’t signed it.

I looked at her.

“You did the right thing.”

She shook her head.

“I don’t understand why they’re doing this.”

I folded the paper.

“Because they know what the property is worth.”

Her eyes widened.

“How much?”

CONTINUE READING PART7…