Chapter 3
The gala ended without an announcement.
No music.
No speeches.
No charity auction.
Guests were escorted from the rooftop one group at a time while federal agents collected names and security reviewed every camera in the building.
By midnight, videos of Victoria tearing Emily’s dress were already spreading across social media.
By twelve-thirty, reporters were outside Harrington Tower.
By one in the morning, Victoria Ashford’s humiliation was the least important thing anyone was talking about.
Because someone had leaked Emily’s identity.
HARRINGTON HEIRESS REVEALED AFTER CHAOTIC GALA.
Emily saw the headline while sitting in Charles’s private office forty floors below.
She threw the phone onto the table.
“So much for privacy.”
Charles stood near the window.
“We’ll find out who leaked it.”
“That fixes nothing.”
“No.”
“At least you admit that.”
Charles turned.
Emily immediately regretted the cruelty.
But she did not apologize.
Not yet.
She had changed into clothes provided by one of Charles’s assistants.
Black pants.
White blouse.
Flat shoes.
The silver dress was sealed inside an evidence bag because Victoria’s assault had officially become part of the investigation.
Emily almost laughed at the absurdity.
Three hours earlier, she had worried about surviving a room full of strangers.
Now she was trying to understand whether the man who raised her had been her biological father.
Daniel Monroe had carried her on his shoulders.
Taught her to ride a bicycle.
Packed her school lunches badly.
Burned pancakes every Sunday.
Sat beside her bed after Grace died and whispered that he would never leave her.
Daniel was her father.
DNA could not change that.
But lies could change everything around the memory.
Agent Mitchell entered.
“We found where the box came from.”
Emily sat straighter.
“Where?”
“Service elevator access on the thirty-ninth floor.”
Charles frowned.
“That floor is secured.”
“Someone used an employee credential.”
“Whose?”
“Peter Caldwell.”
Charles stared.
Emily knew the name.
“Your CFO?”
“Former CFO,” Charles said.
Agent Mitchell nodded.
“Caldwell died six months ago.”
Emily rubbed her arms.
“So someone used a dead man’s access card.”
“Yes.”
Michael Grant entered behind the agent.
“I’ve contacted the building’s security contractor. They’re reviewing duplicate badge records.”
Emily looked at Charles.
“What do you know about Gabriel Vale?”
Charles sat opposite her.
For several seconds, he seemed to search for the least painful version of the truth.
Emily stopped him.
“Don’t soften it.”
He nodded.
“Gabriel was brilliant.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“He was also dangerous.”
“How?”
Charles leaned forward.
“He understood people. Their ambitions. Their weaknesses. He could walk into a room and know who could be bought, who could be frightened, and who needed to feel important.”
“Did my mother love him?”
Charles looked toward the window.
“Yes.”
Emily felt sick.
“Before Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Almost four years.”
Richard Ashford’s voice came from the doorway.
“Five.”
Everyone turned.
Two federal agents stood behind him.
He had agreed to remain voluntarily while his attorneys traveled to Manhattan.
Victoria was elsewhere with her own lawyer.
Emily glared at him.
“Why are you here?”
Richard looked at Agent Mitchell.
“She asked me to answer questions.”
“I didn’t ask you.”
“No.”
He stepped inside slowly.
“But Grace would have wanted you to know.”
Emily’s anger flared.
“Do not tell me what my mother would have wanted.”
Richard accepted it.
“You’re right.”
Charles looked at him.
“Start talking.”
Richard sat at the far end of the table.
“Gabriel and Grace met when she was twenty-one.”
Emily listened.
“He worked for Harrington International in London. Your mother had just finished college and joined the foundation.”
Charles’s jaw tightened.
“I hated him immediately.”
Richard almost smiled.
“You hated everyone Grace dated.”
“I was right about him.”
“Eventually.”
Emily interrupted.
“What happened?”
Richard looked at her.
“Gabriel made Grace feel understood. That was his talent. He made everyone believe they were the only person in the world he saw clearly.”
“And then?”
“They became engaged.”
Emily stared at Charles.
“You never mentioned an engagement.”
Charles looked ashamed.
“There are many things I should have told you.”
“No argument there.”
Richard continued.
“Six months before the wedding, Grace discovered irregularities in foundation accounts.”
“The stolen money.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“At the time? About forty million.”
Emily blinked.
“In charity money?”
“Mostly.”
She looked disgusted.
“Mostly?”
“Some transfers came from corporate development accounts.”
“Who stole it?”
Richard hesitated.
“Gabriel.”
Charles shook his head.
“We never proved it.”
Richard looked at him.
“Grace did.”
Charles stood.
“If she proved it, why didn’t she bring me everything?”
“She tried.”
The room fell quiet.
Richard looked at Emily.
“Your grandfather and I were in Chicago for a board meeting. Grace called me because she couldn’t reach Charles.”
Charles frowned.
“You never told me she called.”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“There are enough lies in this room to bury all of us.”
Emily leaned forward.
“What did she say?”
“She said Gabriel had been moving money through companies tied to executives and political donors. She believed he wasn’t working alone.”
“Were you involved?”
Richard’s face tightened.
“In covering certain transfers.”
Emily stared at him.
“So yes.”
“I didn’t know where the money came from at first.”
“And when you found out?”
“I panicked.”
“Did you help him?”
“I helped hide evidence.”
Charles looked away in disgust.
Richard continued.
“Grace discovered my involvement. She threatened to expose all of us.”
Emily’s voice became cold.
“All of you?”
“Me. Gabriel. Anyone who had signed something they shouldn’t have.”
“Then she died.”
Richard closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
Emily stood.
“You expect me to believe that was an accident?”
“No.”
Charles turned sharply.
Agent Mitchell stopped writing.
Emily felt the room narrow.
“What did you say?”
Richard looked at her.
“I never believed your mother’s death was an accident.”
Charles slammed his palm onto the table.
“You told me you saw the police report.”
“I did.”
“You told me the brakes failed.”
“They did.”
Charles stared.
Richard finished quietly.
“Because someone made them fail.”
Emily felt her knees weaken.
Michael pulled out a chair.
She refused it.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Gabriel?”
“I suspected him.”
“Did you tell police?”
“No.”
Emily walked toward him.
Charles stepped between them.
She moved around him.
“You knew someone might have killed my mother and you said nothing?”
Richard stood.
“I was afraid.”
“So was she!”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Emily’s eyes burned.
“She was twenty-nine years old.”
Richard looked down.
“She had a child.”
His face crumpled.
“She called me the night before she died.”
Emily stopped.
“What?”
“She begged me to help her.”
Charles looked stunned.
“You never told me this.”
Richard ignored him.
“She said Gabriel had found her.”
Emily whispered, “Found her where?”
“In Connecticut.”
Emily thought of the small house where she had spent her earliest childhood.
“She told me she had documents. Recordings. Enough to destroy him.”
“What did you tell her?”
Richard’s eyes filled with shame.
“I told her I couldn’t help.”
Emily stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel had photographs of Victoria.”
Victoria.
Emily frowned.
“She was five.”
“Exactly.”
Richard’s voice broke.
“He knew her school. Her bedroom window. The playground where her mother took her.”
Emily went cold.
“He threatened your daughter.”
Richard nodded.
“And you sacrificed mine,” Charles said.
Richard looked at his old friend.
“Yes.”
Charles crossed the room before anyone could stop him.
His fist struck Richard across the jaw.
Richard fell against the chair.
Security moved.
Charles shouted, “Don’t.”
Nobody touched him.
Richard wiped blood from his lip.
“I deserved that.”
Emily stared at him.
“No.”
Richard looked up.
“You deserved worse.”
Richard’s expression broke.
Emily’s voice shook.
“But hurting you won’t bring her back.”
Silence.
Agent Mitchell placed another file on the table.
“We believe Grace knew she was in danger.”
Emily looked at her.
“How?”
“Because she created three separate evidence caches.”
“The safe-deposit box.”
“That was one.”
“Where are the others?”
“We don’t know.”
Emily thought of her mother’s notebooks.
Her old house.
Daniel.
“What about my father?”
Agent Mitchell paused.
“Daniel Monroe may have known.”
Emily’s heart sank.
“May have?”
“We found recurring payments into an account under his name after Grace’s death.”
Charles frowned.
“From whom?”
Agent Mitchell turned a page around.
Emily read the company name.
VALE STRATEGIC CONSULTING.
She stared at it.
“No.”
Richard looked over.
His face changed.
Emily shook her head.
“No. Daniel hated him.”
“You knew Gabriel?” Charles asked.
“No. Dad mentioned someone named Gabe once.”
Everyone became still.
“When?” Agent Mitchell asked.
“I was nine.”
Emily struggled to remember.
“A man called the house. Dad answered. He got angry.”
“What did he say?”
Emily closed her eyes.
A kitchen.
Yellow curtains.
Daniel gripping the phone.
His voice low.
Never contact us again.
Then later.
Daniel sitting at the table with his face in his hands.
Emily hiding in the hallway.
“He said, ‘Grace died because of you.’”
Agent Mitchell exchanged a look with Michael.
Emily opened her eyes.
“So Daniel knew Gabriel was alive.”
“Yes,” Richard said.
“And if those payments are real…”
Charles finished.
“Daniel was receiving money from him.”
Emily stood abruptly.
“No.”
“Emily—”
“No.”
Daniel had been good.
Daniel had loved her.
Daniel had worked two jobs after Grace died.
There had never been expensive cars.
Never luxury vacations.
Never unexplained wealth.
“Where did the money go?”
Agent Mitchell answered.
“That’s the strange part.”
Emily looked at her.
“Where?”
“Almost all of it was transferred out within twenty-four hours.”
“To whom?”
“We’re tracing it.”
Emily’s phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
Everyone looked at it.
Emily didn’t touch it.
It rang again.
Agent Mitchell nodded to a technician.
The call was routed through a secure recorder.
Emily answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then breathing.
A man’s voice.
Older.
Calm.
“Hello, Emily.”
Her blood turned cold.
Charles stood.
Agent Mitchell signaled everyone to remain silent.
Emily gripped the phone.
“Gabriel?”
A soft laugh.
“So Richard finally found his courage.”
“Where are you?”
“Close enough.”
Emily looked at the windows.
The city stretched below.
“Did you kill my mother?”
Silence.
Then Gabriel sighed.
“Grace always went straight for the hardest question too.”
“Answer me.”
“I loved your mother.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
His voice softened.
“It’s the reason.”
Emily’s heart pounded.
“What does that mean?”
“You’re surrounded by men who failed her.”
Emily looked at Charles.
Then Richard.
“You think you didn’t?”
Gabriel was silent for a moment.
Then he said, “Ask Charles what he did the morning Grace died.”
Emily turned toward her grandfather.
Charles’s face drained of color.
Gabriel continued.
“Ask him why she was driving alone.”
Emily whispered, “Grandpa?”
Charles said nothing.
Gabriel laughed quietly.
“There it is.”
Emily’s anger returned.
“What did he do?”
“Let him tell you.”
The line crackled.
Then Gabriel added one final sentence.
“And Emily?”
“What?”
“Daniel Monroe took my money for eleven years.”
Emily closed her eyes.
Gabriel’s voice became almost gentle.
“But he never spent a dollar of it.”
The call ended.
Emily looked at Charles.
“What happened the morning Mom died?”
Charles did not answer.
Emily slammed both hands onto the table.
“What did you do?”
May you like
Charles finally looked at her.
“I sent her away.”
