Chapter 5 - The Secret My Wife Buried
Daniel's call ended with one unfinished sentence.
"It's your..."
Then silence.
I stared at the phone screen, waiting for it to ring again.
It didn't.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The mansion felt different.
Not because someone had broken in.
Not because I had discovered secrets.
Because for the first time in two years, I felt like I was finally standing inside the truth.
And I hated how much it hurt.
I looked at Emma.
"Who was he talking about?"
She didn't answer.
"Emma."
Her eyes lowered.
"I don't know."
I believed she was telling the truth.
That was the strangest part.
Two days earlier, I would have questioned every word she said.
Now, she was the only person in the room I trusted.
The person I planned to fire.
The person I thought was manipulating my daughters.
The person my wife trusted with the most important thing in her life.
My children.
I closed the laptop.
"We need to get the girls out of here."
Emma immediately looked toward the stairs.
"Where?"
"Somewhere safe."
She shook her head.
"No."
I frowned.
"No?"
"Not yet."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Someone entered my house tonight."
"I know."
"They are watching us."
"I know."
"They know about the files."
"I know."
I stepped closer.
"Then why are you telling me not to move my daughters?"
Emma looked at me.
Because she looked at me like Eleanor used to.
Like she knew I was about to make a decision based on fear instead of reason.
"Because if someone is watching this house, they are expecting you to panic."
I stopped.
She continued.
"Your wife always said the same thing."
My expression changed.
"What did she say?"
Emma looked at the wooden box.
"She said Adrian was brilliant when he had time to think. But when he was scared, he would try to fix everything himself."
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Because Eleanor had said that exact thing to me many times.
She used to tell me:
"You don't solve problems, Adrian. You attack them."
At the time, I thought she was criticizing me.
Now I realized she was warning me.
"Then what do we do?"
Emma walked back to the table.
"We find what Eleanor was trying to show you."
I looked at the USB drive.
"There's more?"
She nodded.
"Your wife never trusted only one copy."
That sounded exactly like Eleanor.
She was careful.
Patient.
Always thinking five steps ahead.
I opened the files again.
This time, I noticed something I had missed.
A hidden folder.
No name.
No date.
Just a small lock symbol.
"What is that?"
Emma leaned closer.
"I've never seen that."
I clicked it.
A password screen appeared.
My first thought was Eleanor's birthday.
Wrong.
Our anniversary.
Wrong.
The girls' birthdays.
Wrong.
I sat back.
She wouldn't choose something obvious.
Eleanor knew me.
She knew what I would try.
I looked around the kitchen.
At the place where she had spent years making breakfast.
At the place where our daughters had grown up.
Then I remembered something.
A phrase she used to say.
Not to me.
To the girls.
I typed the password.
The folder opened.
Inside was one video.
No documents.
No photos.
Just one recording.
Created three days before her death.
My hands froze.
"Play it," Emma whispered.
I clicked.
The screen showed Eleanor sitting in her office.
She looked tired.
Not sick.
Tired.
Like someone who had been carrying a secret alone.
My heart broke before she even spoke.
"Adrian."
Her voice filled the room.
"If you are watching this, then Emma did what I asked."
I looked at Emma.
She looked away.
Eleanor continued.
"I know you may be angry."
A small, painful smile appeared on her face.
"You always hated being the last person to know something."
I almost laughed.
Because she was right.
"I need you to understand something. Emma did not betray you. She protected us."
The words hit me.
Us.
Not her.
Not just the girls.
Us.
"Someone close to us has been using your company and your name. I don't know how deep it goes yet."
Eleanor paused.
Then she looked directly into the camera.
"But I know one thing."
Her expression changed.
Fear.
Real fear.
"The person behind this has access to our home."
I leaned closer.
"Adrian, if anything happens to me, do not trust..."
The video froze.
My heart jumped.
The screen went black.
"No."
I clicked the file again.
Nothing.
The video had been interrupted.
Someone had damaged it.
"Can you recover it?" I asked.
Emma shook her head.
"I don't know."
I looked at the timestamp.
The file had been edited.
Not by Eleanor.
Someone had removed part of it.
Someone had taken the most important sentence.
The sentence containing a name.
A sound came from upstairs.
Avery screamed.
I ran.
I didn't think.
I didn't wait.
I moved faster than I had ever moved in my life.
When I reached the bedroom, the door was open.
My daughters were standing beside the bed.
Avery was holding Sophie.
"What happened?"
Avery pointed toward the window.
"There was someone outside."
I rushed to the glass.
The backyard was empty.
But something was lying on the ground below.
A piece of paper.
I grabbed my coat and ran outside.
The cold air hit my face.
I picked up the paper.
Only one sentence was written.
"You should have listened to Eleanor."
My hands tightened.
Then I saw something else.
A symbol at the bottom.
A company logo.
My company logo.
I walked back inside.
Emma saw my face.
"What is it?"
I handed her the paper.
Her expression changed immediately.
"You know this?"
She nodded slowly.
"Yes."
My stomach dropped.
"Who?"
Emma looked terrified.
Not confused.
Not surprised.
Terrified.
"Emma."
She looked at me.
"It's from the Whitmore Foundation."
I froze.
The foundation.
The charity organization Eleanor had created.
The one I had personally funded.
The one controlled by my family.
"No."
Emma shook her head.
"Your wife discovered something there."
"What?"
She took a breath.
"Money was being moved through accounts connected to the foundation."
"By who?"
Emma didn't answer.
Because she didn't need to.
I already knew the only people who could do it.
My family.
My closest advisors.
The people who had attended Eleanor's funeral.
The people who had hugged me while knowing she had been afraid.
Then my phone vibrated.
A new message.
This time, there was no warning.
No threat.
Only a photograph.
I opened it.
And my entire body went numb.
It was a picture taken moments earlier.
Inside my mansion.
From upstairs.
It showed Avery and Sophie sleeping.
But the person standing beside their bed was not a stranger.
It was someone I knew.
Someone who had been pretending to help me search for the truth.
Someone who had just arrived at the house.
May you like
And the message below the photo said:
"Ask your brother why he visited your daughters tonight."
