Chapter 8 - THE LETTER FROM MATTHEW
The letter arrived through a courier who claimed he did not know the sender.
My name was written in Matthew’s handwriting.
Inside were three pages.
He began by blaming Lauren.
She had pressured him.
She threatened to expose the child.
She demanded the house and company shares.
He described himself as a frightened man trapped between two women.
Then he blamed me.
I had made him feel small.
I corrected him in meetings.
I allowed investors to prefer my answers.
I refused to celebrate his success properly.
The final page contained his version of an apology.
“I lost control because I loved what we built and believed you were trying to take it.”
He had beaten me because he feared losing property he stole.
A second envelope contained photographs of my father meeting federal regulators.
Matthew claimed Richard was planning to use government influence to seize NexusCore.
The photographs were ordinary.
The meetings concerned unrelated financial policy.
But placed beside accusations, ordinary images could become suspicious.
Matthew threatened to release them unless my father restored the credit facility and the board reinstated him.
I gave the letter to Detective Ortiz.
My father gave his photographs to the company’s ethics office and publicly disclosed every meeting.
Transparency weakened Matthew’s leverage.
He had expected us to hide.
Instead, we opened every door.
The board discovered another document during the review.
A life-insurance policy worth fifty million dollars.
Matthew was the insured person.
NexusCore paid the premium.
Lauren’s son was listed as beneficiary through a trust.
A second policy covered me.
Matthew controlled the beneficiary designation.
The amount was eighty million dollars.
I had never approved it.
The application claimed I was a key executive despite every public biography saying I had no formal role.
Matthew could not erase me when my value increased the payout.
The policy required an annual medical examination.
A physician had certified that he examined me three months earlier.
I had never met him.
His name was Dr. Evan Keats.
He also treated Lauren during her pregnancy.
Detective Ortiz searched his clinic.
Keats was gone.
His receptionist revealed that Matthew had asked questions about whether injuries from a fall could be mistaken for an accidental death.
The inquiry occurred one week before the beating.
My father read the report twice.
“He was not only trying to frighten you.”
I knew.
The twentieth strike might not have been intended to be the last.
May you like
Matthew had left because Lauren called him.
Not because he chose to stop.
