Chapter 4 - The Man Who Was Supposed To Be Dead
The man standing at the bottom of my staircase looked exactly like the person I had buried seven years ago.
Same gray eyes.
Same sharp jawline.
Same calm expression that had always made people believe he was impossible to surprise.
My father.
Thomas Reed.
Dead.
Gone.
Buried.
Yet standing inside my mansion like he had never left.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
The entire house seemed frozen.
Even the employees who had gathered near the hallway stared at him without breathing.
I looked at Victoria.
She wasn't surprised.
That was the part that scared me the most.
She already knew.
"Who are you?"
The words came out colder than I expected.
The man looked at me.
Not offended.
Not angry.
Just disappointed.
"That's the first thing you say to your own father?"
My hands tightened.
"My father died seven years ago."
He slowly walked closer.
"That is what everyone was supposed to believe."
My mind struggled to process the sentence.
Supposed to believe.
Not what happened.
What someone wanted people to believe.
I looked at Victoria.
"You knew."
She didn't deny it.
"I found out recently."
"Recently?"
Her eyes lowered.
"I wasn't ready to tell you."
A bitter laugh escaped from me.
"Not ready?"
I pointed toward the man standing below.
"You let me believe my father was dead."
Victoria stepped forward.
"Alexander, listen."
"No."
My voice echoed through the hallway.
"You don't get to tell me to listen."
I looked back at the man.
"If you are really Thomas Reed, explain one thing."
He waited.
"Why did you let your son spend seven years mourning you?"
The expression on his face changed.
For the first time, I saw something human.
Regret.
"I didn't have a choice."
I almost laughed.
"Everyone says that when they don't want to admit the truth."
He looked around the mansion.
"This house was never as safe as you thought."
Those words immediately reminded me of everything.
Rosa.
The stolen payments.
The fake documents.
The messages.
The person hiding inside my home.
"What does any of this have to do with Rosa Martinez?"
My father's expression became serious.
"Everything."
The answer made my stomach tighten.
"What do you know about her?"
He looked toward the staircase.
"More than you do."
I walked down slowly.
Every step felt heavier.
"Start talking."
My father didn't move.
"Seven years ago, before my death was announced, I discovered someone inside our company was moving money."
I stared at him.
"What kind of money?"
"Employee funds."
My chest tightened.
The same pattern.
The same crime.
"This happened before?"
He nodded.
"I tried to investigate quietly."
"Then why did you disappear?"
His eyes shifted.
"Because I found out the person responsible wasn't an employee."
Silence.
I waited.
"Who was it?"
My father looked directly at me.
"Someone with access to everything."
The same answer Victoria had given me.
Someone close.
Someone trusted.
I turned toward Victoria.
She looked uncomfortable.
That bothered me.
Because Victoria rarely looked uncomfortable.
"Who?"
My father didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached into his coat pocket.
He pulled out a small black flash drive.
I recognized it instantly.
A storage device.
Something that could hold evidence.
"What's that?"
"The reason I stayed away."
He placed it on the table near the entrance.
"I kept copies of everything."
I walked closer.
"Everything?"
"Payments. Emails. Account records. Names."
My eyes went to the flash drive.
"Why come back now?"
His expression changed.
"Because someone found out you were looking."
A chill moved through me.
"The woman who called me."
My father looked at me.
"You received a call?"
I nodded.
"A woman told me not to look at the employees. She said I should ask why people close to me needed Rosa to disappear."
My father's face changed.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
"You need to leave this house."
The sudden seriousness in his voice caught me off guard.
"What?"
"Alexander, listen to me."
His voice became urgent.
"The person behind this knows exactly how you think. They know your habits. They know your weaknesses."
I looked around.
"My weaknesses?"
He nodded.
"Your trust."
The words hit harder because they were true.
I trusted people.
Maybe too much.
I trusted Harrison.
I trusted my managers.
I trusted my own family.
My phone suddenly vibrated.
Everyone looked at it.
Another unknown message.
I opened it.
A photo appeared.
My heart dropped.
It was a picture of my father standing in the entrance hall.
Taken less than a minute ago.
Someone had photographed us.
From inside the house.
Below the photo were five words.
"You're both finally together."
I looked around the mansion.
Every hallway.
Every doorway.
Every shadow.
Someone was watching.
"Security."
Nobody answered.
I turned.
The security guard was gone.
My expression changed.
"Where is he?"
Nobody knew.
Then the lights went off.
The entire mansion fell into darkness.
Someone screamed from downstairs.
A few seconds later, emergency lights turned on.
Red.
Dim.
Warning lights.
Victoria grabbed my arm.
"Alexander."
I looked at her.
"What?"
She pointed toward the wall.
The family portraits.
One of them had been removed.
A hidden compartment was exposed behind it.
Inside was an old envelope.
My father's name was written across the front.
But underneath it was another name.
Mine.
I slowly opened it.
Inside was a single piece of paper.
A handwritten message.
I read the first line.
"Alexander, if you are reading this, then I failed to protect you."
My breathing stopped.
The handwriting was my father's.
The letter continued.
"The person you trust the most has already chosen their side."
I looked up.
Everyone was silent.
Victoria.
My father.
The staff.
Then another sound came from behind us.
A door opening.
Slowly.
The private elevator door at the end of the hallway opened.
Someone stepped out.
Someone who should not have had access.
Someone who knew every secret inside my home.
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And the person standing there said:
"Alexander, we need to talk."
