Chapter 4 - What My Sister Stole
Adrian swung the flashlight toward the wall.
Nothing.
The voice had come through an old intercom speaker.
Simone stared at the metal grille.
“Who are you?”
Static.
Then silence.
Adrian inspected the room.
“No camera visible.”
Preston moved toward the door.
“We need to get out.”
Adrian blocked him.
“You’re staying where I can see you.”
Preston smiled thinly.
“This tough-guy routine doesn’t make you law enforcement.”
“No.”
The word was quiet.
Preston stopped smiling.
Simone opened the folder.
Margaret stepped forward.
“Wait.”
Simone looked at her.
“Eighteen years is long enough.”
Inside were medical records.
Bank statements.
Legal correspondence.
And a handwritten statement signed by Elena.
Simone sat at the desk.
Her hands trembled.
Theodore rolled closer.
“Read it aloud.”
She hesitated.
Then began.
My name is Elena Marquez Bellamy. If this statement is being read, I may no longer be able to protect my daughter directly.
Simone swallowed.
She continued.
The Bellamy Heritage Trust was created using properties and investments inherited through my mother’s family. Theodore was never the sole owner of those assets. He managed them as my husband, but legal ownership remained mine.
Theodore whispered, “That’s true.”
Vivienne turned.
“What?”
He closed his eyes.
“I never told you.”
“Mother said everything belonged to you.”
“Your mother said many things.”
Vivienne flinched.
Simone continued reading.
After our separation, I discovered unauthorized transfers from the trust. The signatures appeared to be Theodore’s. Theodore denied signing them.
Theodore nodded.
“I did.”
Adrian looked at him.
“You believed someone forged your name.”
“Yes.”
“Who had access?”
Theodore’s jaw tightened.
“My second wife.”
Vivienne whispered, “My mother?”
Theodore said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Vivienne stepped back.
“No.”
Simone continued.
I confronted Marianne Bellamy. She denied involvement. Three weeks later, I was hospitalized after a car accident.
Margaret closed her eyes.
Simone looked up.
“Accident?”
Margaret shook her head.
“It wasn’t.”
Vivienne stared at her.
“What are you saying?”
“Your mother’s brakes failed.”
Simone’s hand froze.
Another brake.
Another failure.
She looked toward Theodore’s wheelchair downstairs in her mind.
A pattern crossing eighteen years.
Adrian asked, “Who examined the car?”
Margaret answered.
“A private mechanic hired by Gabriel Rourke. The brake line had been cut.”
Vivienne whispered, “No.”
Simone kept reading.
Because I no longer knew whom to trust, Gabriel moved me to Bellamy House under another name. I intended to recover, collect evidence, and return to Simone.
Her voice broke.
The next sentence blurred.
Adrian placed a hand on the desk.
Not on Simone.
Near her.
A quiet anchor.
She continued.
But someone discovered where I was.
The records ended there.
The rest of the page had been removed.
Simone looked at Margaret.
“What happened?”
Margaret sat.
“I was working nights.”
“At Bellamy House?”
“It had been converted into a private rehabilitation residence.”
“Why was that secret?”
“Because Elena believed whoever attacked her would try again.”
Theodore whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Margaret looked at him with open contempt.
“She didn’t know whether you were involved.”
He recoiled.
“She thought I tried to kill her?”
“She thought your signature was on stolen transfers and her brake line was cut three weeks after confronting your wife.”
Theodore looked destroyed.
Simone asked, “How did Mom disappear?”
Margaret rubbed both hands together.
“One night, the power failed.”
Simone’s heart thudded.
Just like now.
Margaret continued.
“Emergency systems came on. I went to Elena’s room. She was gone.”
“Kidnapped?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you call police?”
“Yes. But by morning, Gabriel Rourke arrived and told me Elena had been found.”
“Dead?”
“He said so.”
“Did you see her?”
Margaret shook her head.
“I was told to leave.”
Simone stood.
“You accepted that?”
“I was terrified.”
“So was everyone.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
That honesty stopped Simone.
Vivienne suddenly spoke.
“My mother died five years ago.”
Everyone turned.
“She had cancer,” Vivienne continued. “Near the end, she kept talking about this house.”
Theodore stared.
“You never told me.”
“She made me promise.”
“What did she say?”
Vivienne wiped under one eye.
“She said Elena ruined everything.”
Simone’s face tightened.
“What else?”
“She said there were papers that should have belonged to me.”
Simone stared.
“So you knew.”
“I knew there was money.”
“You knew enough to tear my mother’s letter.”
Vivienne’s face crumpled.
Simone took a step toward her.
“Why?”
Vivienne looked at the floor.
“Because I found it in Dad’s office after his stroke.”
“The letter?”
“Yes.”
“And you tore it?”
“I read it.”
“You removed the part warning me about you.”
“Because I thought Elena hated me.”
“You were a child when she wrote it.”
Vivienne shook her head.
“No. She wrote it after I was born.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“She called me the daughter Theodore raised in her place.”
Margaret interrupted.
“That line wasn’t about you.”
Vivienne looked up.
“What?”
Margaret stood.
“Elena didn’t write that warning about Vivienne.”
Silence.
Simone looked at the torn letter.
“Then who?”
Margaret’s gaze moved to Theodore.
“Marianne.”
Theodore frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“Elena sometimes called Marianne ‘the daughter your father raised.’”
Theodore went still.
Simone stared.
“Marianne was related to us?”
Margaret nodded.
“Theodore’s father had an affair. Marianne was his illegitimate daughter.”
Vivienne looked sick.
“My mother was Dad’s—”
“No,” Theodore said quickly. “We were not raised as siblings. I did not know until years later.”
“But Elena knew.”
“Yes.”
“Then why marry her?”
Theodore looked at the floor.
“By the time I learned, Vivienne had already been born.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Simone sat again.
Every answer created another wound.
Adrian examined the transfer contract.
“Hale Consolidated.”
He looked at Preston.
“You married into the family six months after these assets were transferred.”
Preston shrugged.
“Coincidence.”
Vivienne turned toward him.
“You told me Bellamy Heritage was worthless.”
“It was.”
“Then why is your company listed?”
His expression hardened.
“Be careful.”
Vivienne stared.
Simone saw fear.
Real fear.
Not fear of embarrassment.
Fear of her husband.
Adrian saw it too.
He stepped closer.
“Did Preston know about Bellamy House before you did?”
Vivienne didn’t answer.
“Vivienne.”
She whispered, “Yes.”
Preston’s face changed.
“Stop.”
She looked at him.
“You said it was just paperwork.”
“Stop talking.”
“You said Simone had abandoned the trust.”
“Vivienne.”
“You said her signature was a technicality.”
Preston moved toward her.
Adrian stepped between them.
“Stay where you are.”
Preston’s jaw tightened.
Vivienne began crying.
“I didn’t know he forged it.”
Simone stared.
“But you knew he transferred property that wasn’t his.”
Vivienne said nothing.
“That’s what you stole.”
“No.”
“You knew.”
“I thought it should have been mine!”
The sentence echoed.
Theodore closed his eyes.
Simone’s anger suddenly cooled.
Not disappeared.
Hardened.
“You threw me onto a marble floor because you thought I was coming for money.”
Vivienne sobbed.
“I thought you were going to take everything.”
“I didn’t know there was anything to take.”
“I didn’t believe that.”
“Why?”
“Because Mother spent my whole life telling me you would.”
There it was.
The cruelty beneath the cruelty.
Inherited.
Fed.
Protected.
Simone did not forgive it.
But she understood its shape.
Adrian found an emergency lever beneath the window.
He pulled.
A metal shutter lifted slightly.
“There’s a fire ladder.”
They began exiting one by one.
Theodore’s nurse remained with him.
The service lift still had backup power.
Simone waited until Vivienne stepped onto the ladder.
She caught her wrist.
Vivienne looked back.
“Did Preston order someone to damage Dad’s wheelchair?”
Vivienne’s face changed.
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“I said I don’t know.”
“You’re protecting him.”
“No.”
“Then tell me what you know.”
Vivienne whispered, “This afternoon I heard him talking to someone.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘The old man won’t make it to dessert.’”
Simone’s blood went cold.
Below them, Adrian looked up.
He had heard.
Preston shoved open another window.
Before anyone could react, he jumped onto the lower roof.
“Preston!”
Vivienne screamed.
Adrian moved after him.
Simone grabbed Adrian’s arm.
“No.”
“He’ll run.”
“Let him.”
Adrian looked at her.
She held up the folder.
“We have documents.”
“No. We have copies and incomplete records.”
“He’ll still—”
A car engine roared outside.
Preston disappeared into darkness.
Vivienne covered her face.
Theodore’s nurse called from the hallway.
“Simone!”
She turned.
Theodore had opened another hidden compartment beneath his wheelchair cushion.
Inside was a narrow leather ledger.
Simone took it.
The first page contained columns of names and dates.
Payments.
Transfers.
Initials.
One name appeared again and again.
M. VALE.
Margaret stared.
“That’s not me.”
Simone turned the page.
A photograph fell out.
It showed Marianne Bellamy standing beside Preston Hale.
May you like
The date printed on the bottom was eleven years earlier.
Long before Vivienne had ever met him.
