Chapter 3 - The Secret Her Dead Father Left Behind
My father's company had been gone for over a decade.
At least, that was what I believed.
His name was Thomas Bennett.
He had owned a small freight business near the Chicago rail yards.
Nothing glamorous.
Nothing criminal.
He died when I was 17.
Heart attack.
That was the official story.
After his death, the business collapsed.
My mother had already been gone.
Ethan had been my high school sweetheart.
He became my husband.
Then my life became something I barely recognized.
Jack found the old company records.
There wasn't much.
But there was enough.
Thomas Bennett had done legitimate work.
Except for one strange year.
12 years before his death, he had handled contracts for a shipping company in New York.
A company connected to Moretti interests.
I stared at the file.
“Why would my father work for them?”
Jack sat across from me.
“He didn't work for me.”
“My father knew your father?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Ports.”
I stared.
The world seemed increasingly connected by secrets I had never been told.
Then Jack showed me an old photograph.
My father stood beside a younger man.
Jack's father.
And between them was another man.
Victor Voss.
Marco's father.
I looked at the picture.
“Why were they together?”
“They were partners.”
“For what?”
“An investment.”
“Illegal?”
“Not necessarily.”
Jack paused.
“Not at first.”
Then everything changed.
Thomas Bennett had discovered irregular shipping records.
Containers were being listed as machinery but arriving empty.
Others were disappearing.
He started asking questions.
That was when his life changed.
He received threats.
My mother begged him to stop.
He didn't.
Eventually he found something.
A coded ledger.
The ledger contained proof that someone inside the port network had been diverting money and trafficking stolen goods.
Thomas was going to expose them.
Then he died.
My hands shook.
“You think he was murdered.”
Jack looked at me.
“I think someone wanted us to believe it was natural.”
“And you found this now?”
“We found an old storage locker in Chicago.”
My father had rented it under another name.
Inside was a box.
I opened it.
Letters.
Photographs.
A cassette tape.
And a small silver key.
My little metal robot piece suddenly came to mind.
Missing pieces.
Small things.
Hidden mechanisms.
I held the key.
“What does this open?”
Jack shook his head.
“Not sure.”
We flew to Chicago that afternoon.
Jack refused to let me travel alone.
I didn't protest.
For some reason, I felt safer when he was nearby.
At the storage facility, we found a locked cabinet.
The silver key fit perfectly.
Inside was a leather folder.
A single sentence had been written across it.
For Lily, when she is old enough to know the truth.
I sat down.
Jack stayed beside me.
I opened the folder.
The first page was a letter from my father.
My dearest Lily,
If you are reading this, I failed to protect you from the past.
My hands began trembling.
I kept reading.
Your mother and I discovered something dangerous. People we trusted had built a hidden network through the shipping industry. Some were criminals. Some were businessmen. Some wore suits and sat beside politicians.
I looked at Jack.
He read over my shoulder.
My father continued.
The worst person among them is the man you will know as a respectable guardian.
I frowned.
Who?
The next page was missing.
Jack found the rest of the folder.
Photos.
1 name circled in red.
Victor Hail.
I stared.
Victor.
My manager.
The cruel man who had humiliated me at the restaurant.
He was connected to my father.
But how?
Jack called Rocco.
“Find everything on Victor Hail. Family, employment, financial records.”
Then another photograph fell out.
This one showed Ethan.
He was younger.
Standing beside Victor.
My stomach twisted.
“They knew each other.”
Jack looked at the photograph.
“Long before you met Ethan.”
I felt sick.
Then I found a final document.
A marriage record.
Ethan's name.
My name.
And a handwritten note.
She is the key.
I closed my eyes.
“What key?”
Jack looked at me.
“We're going to find out.”
That evening, Ethan called.
I almost didn't answer.
Jack stood beside the window.
“You don't have to.”
I answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then his voice.
“Lily.”
My whole body froze.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to listen.”
“To what?”
“You're in danger.”
I almost laughed.
“You're warning me?”
“Yes.”
“After working with Victor?”
Silence.
Then Ethan said,
“You don't know who Jack Moretti really is.”
“I know enough.”
“Do you?”
“Why did you marry me?”
His voice cracked.
“That wasn't supposed to happen.”
“What?”
“I was supposed to get close to your father.”
“He was already dead.”
“I know.”
“Then why me?”
“You were supposed to lead me to his files.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“You used me.”
“I never meant to love you.”
The words hurt more than I expected.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why leave?”
“Because they threatened Noah.”
I stopped breathing.
“They knew about him before he was born.”
Jack stepped closer.
“What is he saying?”
I covered the receiver.
“Nothing.”
Ethan continued.
“I had to choose.”
“You chose yourself.”
“No.”
He whispered.
“I chose to keep you alive.”
“Where are you?”
“Chicago.”
“Where?”
He gave an address.
Then he said,
“Come alone.”
Jack shook his head immediately.
I ended the call.
“I'm not going alone.”
Jack looked at me.
“Good.”
We arrived at the address.
An abandoned warehouse.
Ethan was not there.
Instead, Victor Hail stepped from the shadows.
“You really did make yourself difficult, Lily.”
Jack moved in front of me.
Victor laughed.
“I didn't know you were going to bring him.”
“I didn't know you were going to invite me.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
He looked at the scars on my wrist.
“You always were fragile.”
My jaw tightened.
“No.”
I took a step forward.
“I was just surrounded by people who needed me to believe that.”
Victor raised a gun.
Jack reacted faster.
The shot hit the wall.
Rocco's men moved.
Victor ran.
Jack chased him.
I found a metal box beneath the desk.
Inside was the missing page from my father's letter.
I read it.
My father had written:
The danger is not the men who control the ports.
It is the person who controls the person who controls them.
At the bottom was 1 name.
Lucian Voss.
Marco's older brother.
A man everyone believed had died 15 years earlier.
My blood ran cold.
Jack returned.
“Victor escaped.”
I handed him the page.
He read the name.
His face changed.
“Lucian.”
“Who is he?”
Jack looked at me.
“The man who taught Marco everything.”
“And he's alive?”
Jack's eyes hardened.
“Yes.”
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman whispered:
“Lily Bennett, if you want your son alive, stop looking.”
May you like
I turned white.
Then the call ended.
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