Chapter 5 - The Person My Father Tried To Erase
The woman sitting beside the window did not look like a stranger.
That was the first thing I noticed.
She looked familiar.
Not because I knew her.
But because I had seen her face before.
In old photographs.
In memories I had spent years trying not to think about.
She stood slowly, holding the folder against her chest.
Her eyes were filled with something I hadn't seen from my family in a long time.
Regret.
"Arthur."
My name sounded different when she said it.
Like she had been waiting years to say it.
I took a step back.
"Who are you?"
She looked toward the hallway.
Then toward Vanessa.
"Your sister doesn't know the whole truth."
Vanessa immediately looked confused.
"What are you talking about?"
The woman placed the folder on my old desk.
"My name is Margaret."
The name meant nothing to me.
Until she continued.
"Margaret Collins."
My heart stopped.
Because that name was familiar.
Not from my own memories.
From my father's old documents.
My father had mentioned that name once.
Years ago.
During an argument I wasn't supposed to hear.
I was nineteen.
I had walked into the kitchen late at night.
My father was on the phone.
He sounded angry.
I remembered one sentence.
"You need to let the past stay buried, Margaret."
At the time, I thought it was business.
I thought it was nothing.
I was wrong.
"How do you know my father?"
Margaret looked down.
"Because I knew who he was before he became the man you know."
The room became silent.
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"Why should we believe you?"
Margaret looked at her.
"Because your father spent twenty years making sure you wouldn't."
That sentence changed everything.
I moved toward the desk.
"What is in that folder?"
Margaret hesitated.
Then she opened it.
Inside were old documents.
Photographs.
Letters.
And one picture that made my hands shake.
It was my father.
But he looked younger.
Standing beside another man.
A man I didn't recognize.
Behind them was a building.
My company's first office.
Before it belonged to me.
Before I even knew it existed.
I looked at Margaret.
"What is this?"
She took a breath.
"Your father didn't build your family's wealth."
I frowned.
"Excuse me?"
"He inherited access to someone else's work."
I looked at the photograph again.
"Whose?"
Margaret looked at me.
"Your grandfather's."
I felt confused.
"My grandfather?"
She nodded.
"Your grandfather created the original logistics system that your father later used to create his image."
I stared at her.
"But my father always said he built everything from nothing."
Margaret gave a sad smile.
"That was his favorite lie."
The words hit harder than I expected.
Because my entire life was built around the idea that my father was a self-made man.
A brilliant businessman.
A person I should admire.
But now I was hearing that the foundation of everything I believed was false.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Margaret looked at Vanessa.
Then back at me.
"Because your father is trying to do the same thing again."
I knew exactly what she meant.
The documents.
The money.
The replacement plan.
"He wants my company."
Margaret nodded.
"Not just your company."
She pointed toward the folder.
"He wants your identity attached to his failure."
I opened the folder again.
Inside was another document.
This one was newer.
A legal agreement.
I read the title.
"Emergency Transfer Authorization."
My blood ran cold.
"This is the document he planned to use?"
Margaret nodded.
"He wanted to make it appear that you voluntarily transferred control."
Vanessa stepped closer.
"I don't understand."
Margaret looked at her.
"Your father planned to announce that Arthur was stepping away from the company because of personal issues."
My face tightened.
"Personal issues?"
Margaret nodded.
"He planned to use your marriage."
I felt my hands close into fists.
"He was going to blame Clara."
Nobody spoke.
Because suddenly everything connected.
The insults.
The way they treated her.
The way they acted like she didn't belong.
It wasn't just cruelty.
It was preparation.
They wanted to create a story.
A story where Clara was the problem.
Where I was unstable.
Where my family had to "protect" my company from me.
My phone buzzed.
Daniel.
I answered immediately.
"Tell me you found something."
His voice was serious.
"I did."
"What?"
"I traced the signature documents."
"And?"
A pause.
Then:
"Arthur, your father didn't create those documents alone."
I looked at Margaret.
"Who helped him?"
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Someone inside your company."
The room became colder.
"That's impossible."
"I wish it was."
"Who?"
"I don't have proof yet."
"Daniel."
"I only have one thing."
"What?"
"I found access logs."
I waited.
"Someone accessed your private executive files three weeks before the first fake transfer."
My stomach tightened.
"Who accessed them?"
Daniel hesitated.
Then said:
"Your father's account wasn't the first one."
I gripped the phone.
"Whose was it?"
The line went quiet.
Then Daniel answered.
"The access came from an employee account."
"Which employee?"
Another pause.
Then:
"Arthur..."
I felt my chest tighten.
"Say the name."
Daniel finally spoke.
"The account belonged to Clara's former supervisor."
I froze.
That made no sense.
Clara had nothing to do with my company.
She had never been involved in my business.
Why would someone connected to her access my files?
Unless...
Unless this wasn't only about taking my company.
Unless someone wanted to destroy everything around me.
I looked at Margaret.
She seemed to understand something.
"You need to leave."
I stared at her.
"What?"
She moved toward the window.
"Your father knows you found the files."
"How?"
She didn't answer.
Then I heard it.
A sound outside.
Cars.
Multiple cars.
Vanessa looked toward the window.
Her face changed.
"Arthur..."
I walked over.
Three black vehicles had stopped in front of the house.
The same type of vehicles my father used for important meetings.
But this wasn't a meeting.
People were getting out.
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
One sentence.
"Your father is not coming to stop you."
I stared at the screen.
Another message arrived.
"He is coming to take back what he believes belongs to him."
The front door opened downstairs.
Slowly.
Someone walked inside.
Margaret stepped back.
For the first time, I saw fear in her eyes.
Then a voice echoed through the house.
A voice I knew.
My father's voice.
"Arthur."
I turned toward the stairs.
Richard Carter was standing below.
But he wasn't alone.
May you like
Standing beside him was the one person I never expected to see.
The person who had been helping him from the beginning...
