Chapter 2 - The Billionaire Who Said My Father Never Died in an AccidentMatthew Carranza's house did not look like a home.
It looked like a fortress designed by someone who had survived too many wars.
Steel gates.
Private guards.
Security cameras hidden inside stone walls.
A long driveway disappearing into trees.
I stood in the guest room wearing borrowed clothes and stared at my reflection.
The bruise on my cheek had darkened.
I looked exhausted.
But alive.
A knock sounded.
“Come in.”
Matthew entered.
He carried a file.
He placed it on the table.
“Your father.”
My hands froze.
“I thought you said he was killed.”
“He was.”
“What is this?”
“His investigation.”
I opened the file.
The first page showed my father.
Daniel Vargas.
My chest tightened.
Beneath his photograph was a report dated three days before his death.
INTERNAL AUDIT — CONFIDENTIAL
There were transactions.
Shell companies.
Money transfers.
Property acquisitions.
All signed by Isabel.
I looked up.
“She stole from the company.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Three hundred million dollars.”
I stared.
“No.”
“She was moving money through companies controlled by Ambrose.”
“Then why didn't my father stop her?”
“He tried.”
I turned another page.
A handwritten note appeared.
If anything happens to me, Elena must never sign the Vargas transfer.
My breath caught.
“My father wrote this.”
Matthew nodded.
“He knew.”
“About Isabel?”
“About everything.”
I swallowed.
“What does the note mean?”
“It means your father's last instructions were to protect you.”
“From Isabel?”
“Yes.”
I sat down.
“Then why did everyone tell me it was an accident?”
“Because the people who investigated it were paid.”
“Who?”
“Police.”
“Doctors.”
“Insurance investigators.”
“Three judges.”
“Your father's lawyer.”
I stared.
“How did you find all this?”
“Because your father contacted mine.”
“Before he died?”
“Yes.”
“What did he tell him?”
“That Isabel was planning a hostile takeover.”
“And then?”
“My father tried to protect him.”
“Why didn't he?”
Matthew's expression darkened.
“Because my father died six weeks later.”
I looked at him.
“Your father was murdered too.”
“Yes.”
“By Isabel?”
“We believe so.”
“You said your father’s death happened ten years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Then you've been investigating her ever since?”
“I've been waiting for proof.”
“And you think tonight gave you proof.”
He nodded.
“Isabel admitted the transaction to me.”
“How?”
“She called me.”
“Why would she?”
“She believed I wanted Vargas Holdings.”
I frowned.
“You don't?”
“I don't need it.”
“Then why did she think you wanted it?”
“Because she knows my reputation.”
“What reputation?”
He looked amused.
“That I always buy what my competitors cannot protect.”
I almost smiled.
“Do you?”
“Usually.”
He sat opposite me.
“But this isn't about Vargas Holdings.”
“It isn't?”
“No.”
“What is it about?”
“You.”
I stiffened.
“Why?”
“Because your father left something.”
“What?”
“A recorded message.”
I stared.
“He left a message?”
“For me?”
“For you.”
Matthew opened a small device.
My father's voice filled the room.
“Elena.”
I stopped breathing.
“If you're hearing this, I'm probably dead.”
My eyes burned.
“I need you to understand that I did not die because of an accident.”
I covered my mouth.
“Isabel betrayed me.”
The recording crackled.
“I found evidence that she and Richard Ambrose have been moving money through offshore accounts.”
My hands shook.
“If they ever try to make you sign anything, don't.”
“Do not trust Ambrose.”
“Do not trust anyone from the board.”
“There is only one person you may be able to trust.”
A pause.
I leaned forward.
“Matthew Carranza.”
I looked up.
Matthew did not move.
My father's voice continued.
“His father tried to help me.”
“And if Daniel Carranza is dead, his son may be the only man powerful enough to stop them.”
The recording ended.
Silence.
I stared at Matthew.
“You knew about this.”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since three days after your father's death.”
“Why didn't you find me?”
“I did.”
“What?”
“I found you.”
I froze.
“When?”
“A week after the funeral.”
“I never saw you.”
“You weren't supposed to.”
“Why?”
“Because Isabel had people watching you.”
“You could have taken me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Matthew leaned back.
“Because your father specifically warned me not to remove you from the house unless you were in immediate danger.”
I looked away.
He had watched me.
All these years.
He had known Isabel was dangerous.
He had known I was trapped.
I felt angry.
“You could have saved me sooner.”
“Yes.”
His honesty disarmed me.
“Then why didn't you?”
“Because if I had exposed myself, Isabel would have moved the money and disappeared.”
“And now?”
“Now she has made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“She believes you are still trapped.”
I looked at him.
“She doesn't know I'm here.”
“No.”
A pause.
“That's why you're safer here.”
I stared at the floor.
Then I noticed the file.
Another document.
“What's this?”
He hesitated.
“Your father's will.”
I opened it.
A clause had been highlighted.
Upon Elena Vargas reaching the age of twenty-five, control of all remaining Vargas Holdings voting shares shall transfer to her.
I looked up.
“I'm twenty-three.”
“Yes.”
“Then Isabel has two years.”
“She doesn't want to wait.”
“What happens at twenty-five?”
“She loses control.”
“Unless I sign.”
“Exactly.”
I closed the file.
“So she tried to sell me.”
Matthew's eyes hardened.
“She tried to barter your future for thirty million dollars.”
I whispered:
“She was going to give me to Ambrose.”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“What did Ambrose want?”
Matthew's expression became unreadable.
“Ownership.”
“Of the company?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
He didn't answer.
“Matthew.”
He looked directly at me.
“Ambrose wanted leverage over your father's heir.”
I felt sick.
“What does that mean?”
“Your body was the price.”
Silence.
I clenched my fists.
Matthew noticed.
He stood.
“From tonight forward, you are under my protection.”
“I don't need a bodyguard.”
“I didn't say bodyguard.”
“Then what?”
He stepped closer.
“Protection.”
I looked into his eyes.
“And what do I owe you?”
“Nothing.”
That surprised me.
“Nothing?”
“Your father already paid.”
“With what?”
“His trust.”
He left.
I sat alone.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed.
A text.
You should have stayed with Ambrose.
I stared.
Another message arrived.
Matthew Carranza cannot protect you forever.
Then a final one.
Ask him what happened to your mother.
My blood froze.
My mother.
The woman everyone had told me died when I was four.
I stood.
May you like
I had never questioned it.
Until now.
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