Chapter 7: The Man Behind the Money
I gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white.
“You put the letter there?””
Ethan exhaled.
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because I needed you to find it.””
Marcus stared at me, silently mouthing, Put him on speaker.
I did.
Ethan's voice filled the study.
“I didn't know how else to get your attention.””
“You could have told me.””
“I tried.””
“When?””
“Every time I tried to talk to you, Simone was there.””
I looked at Marcus.
He shook his head slowly.
I turned back toward the phone.
“You've been helping Simone.””
“Yes.””
“Then why are you warning me?””
“Because I wasn't helping her steal your inheritance.””
“Then what were you doing?””
Silence.
Finally, Ethan said, “I was trying to keep your inheritance from disappearing completely.””
Marcus stepped forward.
“Start explaining.””
Ethan hesitated.
“Who's that?””
“Marcus.””
The silence on the other end grew longer.
“So you know now.””
“Know what?”” Marcus asked.
“That Simone used the trust.””
I stared at the photograph.
“You knew about the house.””
“I knew about the trust.””
“And the loan?””
“Yes.””
“And my forged signature?””
“I found out afterward.””
“That's a lie.””
“No.””
“Then how did you know where the letter was?””
“Because your father told my father about it.””
I looked at the photograph again.
Ethan's father stood beside mine.
Both men were smiling.
I had never seen the picture before.
“Your father knew mine?””
“They were partners.””
“In what?””
“Real estate.””
Marcus frowned.
“That isn't what Darius's father did.””
“It was one of the things he did.””
I sat down slowly.
My father had always told us he worked in construction.
He had owned a small contracting company.
He built houses.
At least, that's what I remembered.
Ethan continued.
“Your father and mine bought distressed properties, renovated them, and put them into trusts.””
“Why?””
“To protect them from creditors.””
Marcus looked at me.
“That doesn't explain the money.””
“No,” Ethan said.
“It explains why your father trusted my family.””
I heard movement on Ethan's end.
“Where are you?””
“Somewhere Simone can't reach me.””
“That doesn't answer the question.””
“I'll meet you.””
“When?””
“Now.””
I looked at the clock.
“Where?””
“The old diner on Route 9.””
Marcus immediately shook his head.
“No.””
I covered the phone.
“What?””
“Too dangerous.””
I uncovered the speaker.
“Ethan, I'm bringing Marcus.””
“Fine.””
“And if you're lying—”
“I know.””
The call ended.
Marcus grabbed his coat.
“Let's go.””
We left the house through the back door.
The cold air hit my face.
For the first time that night, I realized I wasn't angry anymore.
I was afraid.
Not for myself.
For what my father had left behind.
And for how many people had known about it while I had been kept in the dark.
The diner was almost empty when we arrived.
Ethan was sitting in the back booth.
He looked exhausted.
His shirt was wrinkled.
His hair was wet from the rain.
He stood when he saw us.
“Darius.””
I stopped beside the table.
“You have two minutes.””
He nodded.
“I deserve that.””
“Start with Simone.””
Ethan sat down.
“I met her six months ago.””
“I know.””
“She came to me because she had debts.””
“I know.””
“She needed money quickly.””
Marcus sat opposite him.
“How much?””
“More than eighty thousand.””
I crossed my arms.
“So you helped her borrow against the house.””
“Yes.””
“Using my forged signature.””
“I didn't forge it.””
“Who did?””
Ethan looked at me.
“Simone.””
“She said she didn't.””
“She lied.””
I expected that answer.
What I didn't expect was what came next.
“She didn't forge it herself.””
I frowned.
“Who did?””
Ethan looked toward the window.
“My father.””
The words landed hard.
Marcus leaned forward.
“Your father?””
Ethan nodded.
“He had access to the original trust documents.””
I stared at him.
“Why would he do that?””
“Because he wanted the house.””
“Why?””
“Because the house isn't worth what you think.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
Ethan pulled a folder from his coat.
He placed it on the table.
“The house sits on twelve acres.””
“I know.””
“No, Darius. You don't.””
He opened the folder.
Inside were maps.
Property surveys.
Development plans.
Aerial photographs.
My eyes widened.
“The city approved a redevelopment zone around the property.””
Marcus looked at the map.
“When?””
“Last year.””
I stared.
“How much is it worth?””
“Right now?””
Ethan shook his head.
“About $400,000.””
“And after development?””
“Over $3 million.””
I sat back.
My father's house wasn't an old family property.
It was the center of a future development.
Someone had been trying to get control of it for years.
Marcus looked at Ethan.
“Who?””
“Richard Vale.””
My stomach tightened.
“My father's attorney.””
“Yes.””
“What does he want?””
“The land.””
“Why?””
“Because he owns the development company through a shell corporation.””
Marcus looked at the documents.
“And your father?””
“He helped Vale create the shell company.””
I felt sick.
“So your father, Richard Vale, and my father were partners.””
“Yes.””
“And now my father is dead.””
“Yes.””
“And Vale wants the property.””
“Yes.””
“And Simone gave it to him.””
Ethan shook his head.
“No.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“She tried.””
He pulled out another document.
“But the trust blocked the transfer.””
I stared at the page.
“What happened to the loan?””
“Vale's company purchased the debt.””
Marcus's eyes widened.
“So the lender owns the loan.””
“Yes.””
“And if Darius can't pay?””
“They can force a foreclosure.””
I looked at Ethan.
“Then why am I still the owner?””
“Because the trust has one final protection.””
“What?””
Ethan looked directly at me.
“Your father named a successor trustee.””
“Richard Vale.””
“No.””
He shook his head.
“That's what everyone was supposed to believe.””
I felt a chill.
“Then who?””
Ethan slid a document across the table.
The name was printed at the top.
*Evelyn Reed.*
I stared at it.
“My mother?””
Ethan nodded.
“She became temporary trustee after your father's death.””
“Then why did she let Simone borrow against the house?””
“She didn't.””
I looked up.
“What?””
“She refused.””
“Then how did Simone get the loan?””
Ethan's expression changed.
“Because someone replaced the trust documents.””
Marcus leaned forward.
“Replaced them with what?””
Ethan opened another folder.
“A counterfeit trust.””
I felt my heart pound.
“Who created it?””
Ethan didn't answer.
“Ethan.””
He swallowed.
“My father.””
I stared at him.
“And Richard Vale.””
Marcus whispered:
“Jesus.””
Ethan looked at me.
“I found out three months ago.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because I needed proof.””
“You had proof.””
“Not enough.””
“You could have warned me.””
“I did.””
“When?””
Ethan looked at me.
“Remember when I told you to stop sending your identity documents through email?””
I remembered.
He had warned me.
I'd ignored him.
“Why didn't you say why?””
“Because I was afraid someone was monitoring my phone.””
I leaned back.
“Who?””
Ethan looked toward the diner entrance.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Darius, there's something worse.””
“What?””
“Your mother wasn't the one who signed the counterfeit trust.””
I stared at him.
“Then who did?””
Ethan opened the final folder.
Inside was a notarized document.
A signature appeared at the bottom.
I knew it instantly.
My father's signature.
My breath stopped.
Marcus looked at me.
“Darius…”
I couldn't speak.
Ethan said quietly:
“Your father signed a second trust before he died.””
I looked up.
“But the date…”
He nodded.
“Three days before his death.””
My pulse hammered.
“That means he knew.””
“Yes.””
“Knew what?””
Ethan's face went pale.
“That someone in your family was going to betray you.””
The diner lights flickered.
Then Ethan's phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“What?””
He stood.
“We have to leave.””
“Why?””
He showed me the message.
It contained one photograph.
A picture of my mother's car parked outside the diner.
Taken less than a minute earlier.
May you like
Underneath it was a single sentence:
*You brought Darius exactly where we wanted him.*
