Chapter 3 - The Night I Discovered My Boss Had Been Using Me
Adriano took Clara to a private office downtown.
The building belonged to one of his legitimate companies.
There were no visible guards.
No dramatic entrance.
Only a quiet reception desk and an old elevator.
Inside his office, Clara saw dozens of files.
Not on organized crime.
On Hail Capital.
She stared.
"You were investigating Martin."
"Yes."
"How long?"
"Five months."
"Why?"
"Because money started disappearing."
"From Hail?"
"Through Hail."
He handed her a folder.
She opened it.
Construction contracts.
Shipping manifests.
Payments to shell companies.
A list of names.
Clara recognized some.
One was a senior Hail executive.
Another was Landon Price.
Another was a judge.
She looked up.
"How did you get this?"
"People talk."
"You paid them."
"Sometimes."
"Threatened them?"
"Sometimes."
She gave him a look.
He almost smiled.
"You're difficult to impress."
"I'm trying."
He sat across from her.
"Your father."
She stiffened.
"What about him?"
"Robert Bennett worked for Martin Hail's father."
Clara stared.
"My father never worked for Martin."
"Not Martin."
His voice softened.
"His father."
She looked down.
Her father had died when she was twelve.
He had been an accountant.
A quiet man.
A man she remembered carrying groceries and repairing broken cabinet hinges.
Not someone involved with powerful businessmen.
"What did he do?"
"Financial oversight."
"Why is that relevant?"
"Because he found a missing account."
"What account?"
"The Bellflower Fund."
The name meant nothing.
Adriano continued.
"Money was being moved through shell charities and shipping companies."
"By Hail?"
"By several people."
"Your father found it."
"Yes."
"Then what happened?"
"He disappeared."
Clara froze.
"My father didn't disappear."
Adriano looked at her.
"That's what your mother was told."
Clara's voice dropped.
"What are you saying?"
"He wasn't killed."
"Then where is he?"
"I don't know."
She stood so quickly that the chair moved.
"Stop."
"Clara."
"You don't get to tell me my father is alive after twenty-six years without proof."
"I didn't say he's alive now."
She stared.
"I said he wasn't killed when you were twelve."
Her heart pounded.
"Then what happened?"
"He entered witness protection."
She laughed.
It was a broken sound.
"My mother thought he abandoned us."
"He was protecting you."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because it's true."
She looked at him.
"Did you know him?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"He worked with my father."
"Was your father part of this?"
Adriano looked away.
"For a time."
She understood.
"This goes back generations."
"Yes."
"And you knew all along."
"Not all of it."
"Enough."
He didn't deny it.
Clara sat.
"Why me?"
"Your father left something."
"What?"
"A key."
She stared.
"What key?"
He placed an old brass key on the table.
Clara recognized it immediately.
Her mother kept one exactly like it in a jewelry box.
She reached for it.
"This is mine."
"Your father gave it to my father."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
She examined the engraving.
RB.
Robert Bennett.
There was something scratched into the back.
A date.
The same date her father had supposedly disappeared.
Clara felt cold.
"Where did you get this?"
"My father gave it to me before he died."
"Why?"
"He said I'd know when to use it."
"And now?"
"Now you're here."
He handed her a second folder.
Inside was a photograph.
Her father stood beside a young Adriano.
Adriano looked about nineteen.
Clara covered her mouth.
"Where was this taken?"
"Manhattan."
"When?"
"Seventeen years ago."
Her hands shook.
"But you said you were twenty-four when your father died."
"I was."
"And my father was already gone."
"According to your mother."
Clara looked at him.
"What really happened?"
A knock interrupted them.
One of his men entered.
"Boss."
Adriano looked up.
"We found the missing account."
"Where?"
"Inside Hail's private system."
"Amount?"
"Thirty-eight million."
Clara stared.
"Thirty-eight million?"
"Yes."
"Why would someone hide that much money?"
Adriano looked at her.
"Because it isn't their money."
"Whose?"
"Yours."
The room went silent.
Clara laughed.
"That's impossible."
He handed her another document.
The beneficiary name was hers.
CLARA BENNETT.
She stared.
"Why would I own thirty-eight million dollars?"
"Because your father put it there."
"How?"
"Through your mother."
"Why didn't she tell me?"
"Because she was told you'd be killed if you knew."
Clara stood.
"My mother has been keeping secrets from me."
"So has everyone."
"Including you."
"Yes."
She looked at him.
"Why did you let me point at you?"
He seemed surprised.
"What?"
"At the ballroom."
"You were choosing."
"No."
She stepped closer.
"You knew I'd point at you."
His eyes narrowed.
"Did I?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Martin wanted to embarrass me. You wanted to see what I'd do."
A pause.
Then Adriano smiled faintly.
"You're very observant."
"Answer me."
"I wanted to know whether you'd choose safety or truth."
"And?"
"You chose truth."
She shook her head.
"I chose you."
"That's what worries me."
"Why?"
"Because you don't know me."
Clara looked at him.
"Maybe I want to."
For the first time, Adrian's control broke.
Just slightly.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
His expression went dark.
"Where?"
A pause.
"Do not touch her."
He hung up.
Clara stared.
"Who?"
"Your mother."
Her stomach dropped.
May you like
"What happened?"
"She's missing."
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