Chapter 3 - The Secret Thomas Hayes Left Behind
Nico’s estate sat behind twelve-foot iron gates on the outskirts of Chicago.
Genevieve stared through the tinted windows of the armored SUV as they passed through the security checkpoint.
She expected the house to look like a criminal fortress.
Instead, it looked like an old European mansion hidden inside hundreds of acres of winter-gray trees.
The place was beautiful.
And unsettling.
“Do you live here alone?”
Nico glanced at her.
“With my family.”
Genevieve stiffened.
He almost smiled.
“My younger sister. My grandmother. A few staff members.”
“That sounds surprisingly normal.”
“My business is not normal.”
“That I noticed.”
For the first time, Nico smiled.
It was small.
Real.
Then it vanished.
Inside the house, a woman in her seventies hurried toward them.
“Who is she?”
“Grandma.”
“You brought a bride home?”
Genevieve nearly choked.
“I’m not his bride.”
The older woman looked at the torn gown.
“Not yet?”
Nico closed his eyes.
“Please don't.”
His grandmother looked at Genevieve again.
“Thomas Hayes’s daughter.”
Genevieve froze.
“How did you know my father?”
The old woman smiled sadly.
“Your father carried my son out of a burning warehouse twenty-two years ago.”
Nico said nothing.
Genevieve looked at him.
“Your father?”
“My father died the night Thomas saved my mother.”
Genevieve finally understood.
Her father had done more than business deals.
He had saved people.
And Nico had remembered.
Later that night, Genevieve sat in a guest bedroom wearing a borrowed sweater and sweatpants.
Her wedding gown lay on a chair.
The once-perfect dress was ruined beyond repair.
She should have been thinking about Preston.
Instead, she kept thinking about her father.
Eight months.
Eight months since he died.
And she had cried at his funeral believing he had been taken by an accident.
Now every memory had changed.
At midnight, there was a knock at the door.
Nico stood outside holding a folder.
“We found something.”
Genevieve immediately stood.
“What?”
He entered and placed the folder on the table.
Inside was a photograph of Thomas Hayes meeting a younger Harrison Whitmore.
The date was twelve years earlier.
Genevieve stared.
“They knew each other.”
“More than that.”
Nico placed another document beside the photograph.
A port contract.
Another.
A bank transfer.
Then another.
Genevieve read the numbers.
Millions.
“These payments came from my father’s company.”
“Yes.”
“To Whitmore-controlled shell companies.”
“Yes.”
Genevieve felt confused.
“My father would never…”
“He didn't.”
Nico pointed to the signatures.
“They were forged.”
Genevieve looked closer.
The signature looked almost identical.
“Who could forge this?”
“Someone with access.”
“My CFO?”
“Maybe.”
“Board members?”
“Maybe.”
Nico sat across from her.
“Your father suspected someone was stealing from Hayes Logistics.”
Genevieve stared at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because he contacted me.”
She looked up sharply.
“When?”
“Three weeks before his death.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because he asked me not to.”
Genevieve's eyes filled with tears.
“What did he say?”
Nico remembered.
“He said, ‘If anything happens to me, my daughter must never marry Preston Whitmore.’”
Genevieve went pale.
“Did he know?”
“He knew enough to be afraid.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“He believed telling you would make you a target.”
A tear rolled down Genevieve’s cheek.
“My father lied to protect me.”
“Yes.”
“And Preston pretended to love me to destroy me.”
“Yes.”
Genevieve wiped her face.
“What was my father trying to uncover?”
Nico opened the final document.
A list of shipping containers.
“These containers vanished from your company records.”
“What was inside?”
“Nothing illegal, according to the manifests.”
Genevieve studied the addresses.
Every container had passed through ports controlled indirectly by Whitmore allies.
Nico leaned forward.
“Your father was trying to prove that the Whitmores were using Hayes Logistics to move money.”
Genevieve’s blood ran cold.
“How much?”
“Enough to bring down powerful people.”
She looked at him.
“Then why haven't you done it?”
“Because we don't have the final piece.”
“What piece?”
“The original ledger.”
“Where is it?”
Nico shook his head.
“Your father hid it.”
Suddenly Genevieve remembered something.
Her father had once told her, “When you are older, I’ll show you where I keep the things that matter.”
She had assumed he meant sentimental belongings.
“What if I know where it is?”
Nico’s eyes narrowed.
“Tell me.”
“My father had an old warehouse on Navy Pier. He kept a private office there. He wouldn't let anyone enter.”
Nico stood immediately.
“Do you know the address?”
“Yes.”
“We leave at sunrise.”
Genevieve looked toward the window.
“Do you think Preston will find me?”
“He will.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because he has already sent people to the estate.”
Genevieve’s heart jumped.
Nico turned toward the door.
“Which means tonight is no longer about hiding you.”
“What is it about?”
May you like
He looked back.
“Finding what your father left behind before they do.”
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