Chapter 2: The File With My Name On It
The man holding the folder was Daniel Reeves.
My father’s oldest friend.
And the person who had handled every major legal matter for the Carter Foundation since its beginning.
I had known Daniel since I was a child.
He was the man who brought me birthday gifts when my father was traveling.
The man who taught me how to sign my first charity donation form.
So seeing him standing there with a serious expression made my stomach tighten.
“Daniel,” my father said.
“What is this?””
Daniel glanced at the crowd.
“This is not the place.””
My father didn’t move.
“Apparently this is exactly the place.””
The ballroom was still watching.
Nobody cared about the charity speeches anymore.
They cared about the billionaire’s daughter who had been treated like a servant.
Daniel opened the folder.
“Brianna, you applied to become a volunteer through a third-party organization, correct?””
“Yes.””
“Without using your real last name?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
I looked around.
Because suddenly, I wasn’t just explaining myself to my father.
I was explaining myself to everyone.
“I wanted people to judge my actions.””
My father looked down.
I continued.
“I didn’t want special treatment.””
Daniel nodded.
“That was the answer I expected.””
He turned the folder around.
Inside were printed emails.
“Three weeks ago, the volunteer coordinator received instructions.””
My eyebrows pulled together.
“What instructions?””
Daniel looked at Brielle.
“To make sure certain volunteers remained invisible.””
Brielle immediately stepped forward.
“That’s absurd.””
Daniel ignored her.
“The emails came from someone connected to Whitmore Holdings.””
The room changed.
Everyone knew that name.
Brielle’s family.
Her mother’s fashion empire.
Her father’s investments.
Brielle shook her head.
“My family had nothing to do with volunteer assignments.””
Daniel looked at her.
“Your assistant did.””
The color drained from her face.
My father took the papers.
“Why would someone do this?””
Nobody answered.
Then I understood.
It wasn’t about me.
Not originally.
Brielle didn’t know who I was.
She thought I was nobody.
But someone had arranged for certain people to be placed where they could be controlled.
The question was why.
Daniel closed the folder.
“There’s more.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
He hesitated.
And that scared me more than anything.
“Brianna, your father’s foundation has been preparing a major leadership transition.””
My father frowned.
“Daniel.””
But Daniel continued.
“The board planned to announce tonight that you would become the youngest member of the foundation’s executive committee.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
I stared at my father.
“You knew?””
He looked guilty.
“I wanted to tell you after the announcement.””
I laughed softly.
Not because it was funny.
Because it hurt.
“I spent months proving I wasn’t just your daughter.””
“Brianna—”
“And you were going to announce me anyway?””
His expression softened.
“I was going to give you a choice.””
But before I could respond, Brielle interrupted.
“This is insane.””
Everyone looked at her.
She pointed at me.
“So the entire time, she was pretending to be ordinary?””
Her voice became louder.
“She was testing people?””
The guests exchanged looks.
And I realized something.
She was trying to change the story.
Trying to make herself the victim.
“I didn’t test anyone,” I said.
Brielle laughed.
“Really? You walked into a room full of wealthy people pretending you were nothing.””
“No.””
I stepped closer.
“I walked into a room hoping people would treat everyone with respect.””
Silence.
For the first time that night, Brielle had nothing to say.
My father looked at me.
“Come home with me.””
I shook my head.
Not yet.
“I need answers.””
Daniel looked concerned.
“Brianna, there are things happening inside the foundation that you don’t understand.””
“Then explain.””
He looked at my father.
A silent conversation passed between them.
That scared me.
Because whatever they were hiding was bigger than a ruined gala.
Finally, Daniel handed me another document.
“I found this in the foundation records yesterday.””
I took it.
The page was old.
Yellowed.
And at the top was a signature.
My mother’s signature.
My breath caught.
My mother had died when I was young.
I barely remembered her voice.
But I remembered her handwriting.
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Your mother left this before she passed.””
I looked at the first sentence.
And my hands began shaking.
May you like
Because it wasn’t a goodbye letter.
It was a warning.
