Chapter 4 - THE MONEY THAT DISAPPEARED
We did not leave immediately.
Alexander's security team arrived within fifteen minutes.
The ballroom had transformed from a wedding celebration into a room filled with frightened whispers.
My father was furious.
Rosalie was crying.
My mother kept asking what had happened.
And I stood in the center of it all wondering how a wedding could collapse so completely in less than an hour.
The company transfer had been made at 8:47 p.m.
Eleven million dollars.
Three separate transactions.
All routed through a holding account registered in the Cayman Islands.
The account belonged to a shell company.
The shell company was connected to Rosalie.
At least on paper.
She denied everything.
“I didn't do it.”
My father shouted.
“Then who did?”
“I don't know!”
Alexander remained calm.
“Everyone needs to stop talking.”
My father turned toward him.
“You don't give orders in my house.”
Alexander looked at him.
“Then consider this a warning.”
The room quieted.
“Someone has stolen eleven million dollars.”
My father swallowed.
“And if that money belongs to Prescott Logistics, federal investigators will eventually become involved.”
Rosalie began crying harder.
“I didn't steal anything.”
I believed her.
At least initially.
Because there was something about her expression that didn't look like guilt.
It looked like fear.
I walked toward her.
“Rosalie.”
She looked up.
“I swear I didn't do it.”
“Tell me everything.”
“I don't know anything.”
“Who has access to your accounts?”
She shook her head.
“Nobody.”
“Your husband?”
Daniel immediately stepped forward.
“No.”
Alexander's security director approached.
“Actually, Mr. Daniel Mercer does have access to several financial accounts registered under your wife's name.”
Rosalie looked at him.
“What?”
Daniel's face went pale.
“That isn't what you think.”
She stepped back.
“You told me you couldn't access my accounts.”
“I meant—”
“You lied?”
“Rosalie.”
“You lied to me?”
Daniel grabbed her arm.
She pulled away.
“Don't touch me.”
My father stepped between them.
“Everyone calm down.”
I stared at Daniel.
Something wasn't right.
Then Alexander's security director handed me a tablet.
“We found another transaction.”
I looked at the screen.
My stomach tightened.
The money hadn't gone directly to Rosalie.
It had passed through her account.
Then moved into another company.
A company registered six months earlier.
The owner was listed as Daniel Mercer.
Rosalie saw the screen.
Her face collapsed.
“Daniel.”
He shook his head.
“I can explain.”
She slapped him.
The sound echoed through the ballroom.
Nobody moved.
“You used my name.”
Daniel stared at her.
“I was protecting us.”
“From what?”
“Your father.”
My father looked furious.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel's voice shook.
“Your father borrowed money.”
Silence.
“How much?” I asked.
Daniel looked at me.
“Twenty-eight million.”
My father turned white.
Rosalie stared at him.
“Dad?”
He said nothing.
“Dad?”
My father finally spoke.
“It wasn't supposed to matter.”
My mother covered her mouth.
Twenty-eight million dollars.
The wedding suddenly made sense.
The extravagant venue.
The imported flowers.
The champagne.
The endless displays of wealth.
It wasn't celebration.
It was performance.
My father had been trying to convince everyone that the Prescott family was still powerful.
But the company had been drowning.
And I had unknowingly bought the controlling interest in a business that my father had nearly destroyed.
I looked at him.
“How long?”
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
“How long have you been hiding this?”
“Three years.”
The same amount of time I had been secretly married.
Three years of lies.
Three years of pretending everything was fine.
Three years of him humiliating me while secretly struggling to keep his empire alive.
My father finally looked at me.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You should have.”
“Why?”
“Because you're my daughter.”
I stared at him.
“You spent three years telling me I wasn't important enough to be part of the company.”
He lowered his voice.
“I was protecting you.”
“No.”
My voice broke.
“You were protecting your pride.”
Nobody spoke.
Alexander stepped beside me.
My father looked at him.
“You knew?”
Alexander shook his head.
“I knew the company was unstable.”
“But you still bought it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Alexander looked at me.
“Because she could save it.”
My father laughed bitterly.
“You think she can?”
“I know she already did.”
That was when my father's anger disappeared.
Something else replaced it.
Desperation.
He stepped toward me.
“Fiona.”
I waited.
“I need your help.”
The words were almost impossible to recognize.
My father had never asked me for anything.
He had demanded.
Ordered.
Criticized.
But never asked.
“I need your help,” he repeated.
I looked at Alexander.
He didn't answer for me.
He never did.
That was why I loved him.
The choice remained mine.
I looked at my father.
“I'll help the employees.”
He swallowed.
“What?”
“I'll protect the people who work there.”
His face fell.
“And me?”
“I don't know.”
He looked devastated.
“I'm your father.”
“I know.”
“Then don't let me lose everything.”
I took a breath.
“You should have thought about that before you pushed me into a fountain.”
He closed his eyes.
My mother started crying.
Then Rosalie whispered.
“Fiona.”
I looked at her.
“I'm sorry.”
She was crying now.
“I didn't know about the money.”
“I believe you.”
“But I should have stopped Dad years ago.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I was jealous of you.”
That surprised me.
“You were?”
She laughed through her tears.
“You always thought I had everything.”
“I did.”
“I thought you had everything.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because you didn't need anyone.”
The words stayed between us.
I had spent my entire life believing Rosalie was the strong one.
Beautiful.
Popular.
Confident.
Loved.
Maybe she had spent her life believing the same thing about me.
Except neither of us had understood that our parents had placed us on opposite sides of the same impossible competition.
Then Daniel spoke.
“There is something else.”
Everyone looked at him.
He looked at me.
“The transfer wasn't my idea.”
Rosalie stared.
“Then whose?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Your father's.”
My father shouted.
“Don't lie!”
“I have proof.”
He pulled out his phone.
“Your father ordered the transfer.”
My mother gasped.
My father lunged toward him.
Alexander's security team stopped him.
“Get your hands off me!”
Daniel stepped back.
“I have emails.”
He held up the phone.
“Three months ago, your father told me to move money through Rosalie's accounts because creditors were getting too close.”
Rosalie stared at her father.
“You used me.”
My father shook his head.
“I was trying to save the family.”
“No.”
Rosalie's voice cracked.
“You were trying to save yourself.”
My father said nothing.
For the first time, I saw the two daughters standing on the same side.
Not against each other.
Against the lie.
Alexander stepped forward.
“We're leaving.”
My father looked at him.
“You can't just walk away.”
Alexander answered quietly.
“Watch me.”
We left.
The car ride was silent for nearly ten minutes.
Then I asked the question I had been afraid to ask.
“Did you know my father was stealing?”
“No.”
“Would you have told me?”
“Immediately.”
I believed him.
I rested my head against the window.
“What happens now?”
“Legally?”
“Yes.”
“Your father could face serious consequences depending on how the transactions are characterized and what investigators establish.”
“And Rosalie?”
“She may be cleared if the evidence shows she didn't participate.”
I closed my eyes.
“And Daniel?”
“That depends on what he knew and what he did.”
I looked at him.
“Do you think my family will ever be normal?”
Alexander smiled sadly.
“Maybe.”
“Do you?”
“I think normal is overrated.”
I laughed.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice whispered.
“Mrs. Reed?”
“Yes.”
“You don't know me.”
“Who is this?”
“I used to work for your father.”
My stomach tightened.
“What do you want?”
“I need to warn you.”
“About what?”
He hesitated.
“Your father isn't the one who started all of this.”
I sat upright.
“What?”
“There is someone else.”
“Who?”
The line went silent.
Then the man whispered one final sentence.
“Ask your mother what happened twenty-five years ago.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Alexander looked at me.
“What happened?”
I swallowed.
“I don't know.”
Then I remembered something.
A sentence my mother had once said when I was seven.
A sentence I had completely forgotten.
“Some things are better left buried.”
I looked at Alexander.
“My mother knows something.”
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And suddenly the wedding wasn't the beginning of the family's secret.
It was only the moment someone had finally forced it into the light.
