Chapter 4 - The Restaurant's Former Owner Was Hiding a Fortune Under the CityThe investigation became bigger than either of us expected.
Federal agents became involved.
Old records were opened.
Banks were subpoenaed.
The trust became a national case.
But one question remained.
Where was Julian?
Nathaniel and I traveled to Kansas City.
The trail led to an old warehouse.
It had been empty for years.
Inside, we found a room filled with photographs.
Julian.
At sixteen.
At twenty.
At twenty-five.
At thirty.
Someone had been tracking him his entire life.
The latest photograph showed him at thirty-nine.
He looked tired.
Alive.
Nathaniel touched the image.
“He's my little brother.”
I stepped closer.
“He's waiting for you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because someone wants you to find him.”
We searched the room.
A map.
One location circled.
St. Louis.
We drove all night.
At dawn, we found a small apartment.
The door was unlocked.
Inside was Julian.
Older.
Scarred.
But alive.
Nathaniel froze.
“Julian.”
Julian looked up.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Nathaniel crossed the room.
The brothers embraced.
I stepped back.
It was private.
Twenty-five years of grief poured into one embrace.
When they separated, Julian looked at me.
“You're Emma.”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Mom likes you.”
I laughed softly.
“How do you know?”
“She told me.”
“Where is she?”
Julian's expression changed.
“She knows.”
“What?”
“She knows everything.”
Nathaniel frowned.
“What does Mom know?”
“That Dad didn't die naturally.”
I froze.
Nathaniel went pale.
“Our father was murdered.”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
Julian looked at me.
“Marcus Hale.”
My stomach dropped.
“Why?”
“Because he wanted control of the trust.”
“The two hundred million?”
“Much more.”
“How much?”
“Eight hundred million.”
Silence.
“What?”
Julian continued.
“Our grandfather had been laundering money through legitimate businesses.”
“The family fortune was built on illegal transactions.”
“My father discovered it.”
“He wanted out.”
“Marcus killed him.”
“And you?”
“I found the records.”
“That’s why you disappeared.”
“Yes.”
Nathaniel's voice shook.
“Why didn't you come home?”
“Because Marcus threatened Mom.”
“She believed you were dead.”
“I wanted her to stay alive.”
“Why contact me now?”
Julian looked at me.
“Because you work at Maison Greer.”
“What does that matter?”
“The restaurant contains the final ledger.”
I stared.
“The ledger is under the floor.”
“We found a room.”
“Not the right one.”
Julian handed me a key.
“Under the wine cellar.”
Nathaniel looked at him.
“Why send us now?”
“Because Marcus is moving.”
“To where?”
“Chicago.”
We returned immediately.
By the time we arrived, Marcus Hale was at Maison Greer.
He was waiting.
“You found Julian.”
Nathaniel raised his gun.
“Yes.”
Marcus smiled.
“Good.”
“Where have you been?”
“Protecting what belongs to the Whitmore family.”
“You killed my father.”
Marcus shrugged.
“Your father killed himself.”
“No.”
“He chose greed.”
Julian stepped forward.
“You lied.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Twenty-five years.”
“You should have stayed missing.”
Julian smiled.
“You should have been arrested.”
Marcus laughed.
“Not yet.”
He pressed a button.
The restaurant doors locked.
Then the floor beneath us opened.
A hidden passage appeared.
I stared.
Marcus smiled.
“The truth is underneath.”
We descended.
Beneath the cellar was another chamber.
The final ledger sat inside a steel safe.
Marcus reached for it.
Nathaniel stopped him.
“Step away.”
Marcus looked at me.
“Emma.”
I froze.
“How do you know my name?”
“Because your mother told me.”
“Rose?”
“Yes.”
“What does she have to do with this?”
Marcus smiled.
“Everything.”
He turned toward Nathaniel.
“Your mother wasn't just a witness.”
“She helped create the trust.”
Nathaniel's face went pale.
“No.”
Marcus nodded.
“She and your father planned to return the stolen money.”
“Then why did they fail?”
“Because your grandfather stopped them.”
I looked at the safe.
“What is inside?”
Marcus whispered:
“Proof.”
“Of what?”
“That your family's empire was never yours.”
Nathaniel stared.
Marcus continued.
“It belonged to the people your family stole from.”
The safe opened.
Inside were millions in old documents.
Bank statements.
Legal agreements.
Names.
Victims.
Everything.
I picked up the final ledger.
And saw one name repeated over and over.
VANESSA WHITMORE.
Nathaniel stopped breathing.
“Why is my aunt's name here?”
Marcus smiled.
“She knows exactly where the money went.”
The room fell silent.
And I realized Vanessa's humiliation of Rose hadn't been about clothes.
May you like
She had recognized her.
She had been afraid Rose would remember.
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