Chapter 8 - My Father’s Secret
The meeting with Alexander gave investigators enough to pursue financial subpoenas.
Ryan’s accounts were examined.
His new company was frozen.
Several transactions were flagged.
But another question remained.
Why had my father known exactly where to go so quickly?
I had sent him my location.
But twenty years of silence did not explain how Dominic Romano assembled an attorney, emergency medical team, and security detail within minutes.
I finally asked him.
He did not lie.
“I have known where you were.”
I stared at him.
“For twenty years?”
“No.”
He said.
“For eighteen.”
My chest tightened.
“You watched me?”
“I kept distance.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I knew where you lived.”
“I knew where you worked.”
“I knew when you married.”
Anger rose inside me.
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
His face looked suddenly older.
“Because after your mother died, you disappeared from me.”
“I was seventeen.”
“You were angry.”
“I was terrified of your life.”
He nodded.
“You had reason.”
That admission stopped me.
He continued.
“I spent years trying to become someone you could contact without being afraid.”
“I left certain businesses.”
“I cut ties.”
“I moved investments.”
“I became quieter.”
“You could have called.”
“I did.”
“No.”
“Twice.”
I froze.
He told me he called when I graduated college.
I had changed numbers.
Then again after my mother’s funeral anniversary.
I never answered.
After that, he stopped.
But he maintained one emergency number.
The number still saved under Dad.
“I thought you buried me.”
He said.
“I thought you hated me enough to never call.”
“I nearly did.”
He nodded.
“But you did.”
We sat in silence.
Then he reached into his jacket.
“I need to tell you something before the police find it themselves.”
He handed me a folder.
Inside was a trust agreement.
My name appeared throughout.
“What is this?”
“Your mother’s estate.”
I looked at him sharply.
“My mother had no estate.”
“She did.”
Dominic said.
“She owned property through a family trust.”
“How much?”
“Today?”
He hesitated.
“Approximately seventy million.”
I stared at him.
“And you never told me?”
“Your mother instructed me not to release control until you were forty.”
“Why?”
“Because she was afraid someone would marry you for it.”
My blood turned cold.
May you like
Ryan knew I had family money.
Maybe he had known far more than I realized.
