Chapter 2 - THE FILES FLORENCE NEVER WANTED ME TO SEE
I did not walk into the ballroom.
Instead, I turned toward the nearest private conference room and motioned for Leo to follow me.
My hands were steady, but only because I was forcing them to be.
Inside my chest, something was moving much faster.
Fear.
Anger.
Confusion.
And underneath all of it was one question I could not silence.
Where was my daughter?
I closed the conference-room door behind us and locked it.
Leo stood beside the long mahogany table, staring at me.
“Grandpa?”
I crouched in front of him.
“You did the right thing.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Mommy said you would know what to do.”
I swallowed hard.
“Your mommy was right.”
I pulled out my phone.
My first instinct was to call Christina.
The call went directly to voicemail.
I tried again.
Nothing.
I called Rebecca.
No answer.
A third time.
Still nothing.
I stared at the screen.
Then I remembered something Christina had told me three weeks earlier.
“If you ever need me and I don't answer, Dad, call the house.”
At the time, I had laughed.
“You're twenty-nine years old. You sound like you're planning to disappear.”
She had smiled sadly.
“Maybe I'm just learning that people don't always stay who you think they are.”
I had asked her what she meant.
She had changed the subject.
I had let her.
That memory now felt like a warning I had ignored.
I took out the USB drive.
My laptop was in the hotel office upstairs.
But I didn't trust the hotel's network.
So I called my longtime attorney, Martin Hayes.
He answered on the second ring.
“Jonathan?”
“Martin, where are you?”
“At the reception. Why?”
“Leave the ballroom.”
Silence.
“What happened?”
“I need you in a private room. Bring your laptop. And don't connect it to the hotel Wi-Fi.”
Another silence.
Then his voice changed.
“Jonathan, what did you find?”
“I don't know yet.”
I looked at Leo.
“But my grandson gave me something.”
Twenty minutes later, Martin entered the conference room carrying a black laptop case.
He was sixty-two, silver-haired, careful with words, and had represented me for twenty-six years.
He took one look at my face.
Then at Leo.
Then at the USB drive.
“What happened?”
“My daughter isn't here.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“She called me this morning.”
My heart stopped.
“What did she say?”
Martin sat down.
“She asked me a strange question.”
“What question?”
“She asked whether the trust documents your father created could still be accessed if you were declared mentally incompetent.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
Martin nodded slowly.
“I thought it was hypothetical.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“She specifically asked me not to.”
I stood.
“Martin.”
“I know.”
He looked exhausted.
“I should have told you.”
I walked toward the window.
Chicago stretched beneath us in gray afternoon light.
My wedding guests were downstairs.
My future wife was waiting.
My daughter was missing.
And my three-year-old grandson had just handed me a USB drive.
Nothing about this day made sense anymore.
“Open it,” I said.
Martin placed the laptop on the table.
He inserted the drive.
Nothing happened for several seconds.
Then a folder appeared.
There were twenty-seven files.
Most were videos.
Some were photographs.
Several were financial documents.
One folder was named:
FOR JONATHAN — IF I CAN'T TELL YOU MYSELF
My breathing stopped.
“That's Christina's handwriting,” I whispered.
Martin looked at me.
“Are you sure?”
“I've seen it thousands of times.”
I clicked the folder.
Inside was a single video.
The file name was:
WATCH ALONE
I looked at Leo.
“Can you take him outside?”
Martin shook his head.
“No.”
Leo grabbed my jacket.
“I want Grandpa.”
I put my hand on his shoulder.
“You can stay.”
I clicked the video.
Christina appeared on the screen.
She was sitting in her kitchen.
Her face looked pale.
Her hair was tied back.
And she was crying.
My daughter almost never cried in front of anyone.
“Dad,” she said.
“If you're watching this, something happened.”
My throat tightened.
She looked toward the camera as though she was afraid someone might enter the room.
“I need you to listen carefully.”
She paused.
“Florence Fairmont is not who you think she is.”
My entire body went cold.
Leo looked at the screen.
Martin leaned closer.
Christina continued.
“She didn't meet you by accident.”
I whispered, “What?”
The video continued.
“Dad, I found out six months ago that Florence had been asking questions about your estate.”
Martin looked at me.
Christina's voice trembled.
“She knew about the Prescott Family Trust.”
I frowned.
The trust was established by my father thirty-five years earlier.
It protected the family's primary assets.
But I was the sole active beneficiary.
No one outside my legal team should have known its full structure.
Christina continued.
“She knew the exact value.”
Martin's face hardened.
“That information wasn't public.”
“I know,” I said.
On the screen, Christina wiped her eyes.
“At first, I thought she was just interested in Dad's money.”
She shook her head.
“Then I discovered something worse.”
The video suddenly became distorted.
A loud crackling sound filled the room.
Then Christina reappeared.
“She has someone inside your company.”
Martin whispered, “Who?”
Christina looked directly into the camera.
“I don't know his full name.”
She hesitated.
“But I know his initials.”
The video froze.
The screen went black.
A message appeared.
FILE CORRUPTED.
I stared at it.
“No.”
Martin immediately began checking the file.
“It's damaged.”
“Can you recover it?”
“Maybe.”
I turned toward Leo.
He was staring at the laptop.
Then he whispered,
“Mommy had another one.”
I crouched beside him.
“Another what?”
“Another video.”
“Where?”
He pointed at the USB.
“She said if this one stopped, Grandpa should open the blue folder.”
I looked at Martin.
There was a folder on the drive labeled:
BLUE
We opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Florence leaving a restaurant.
Florence entering a law office.
Florence standing beside a man I didn't recognize.
Florence sitting in the passenger seat of a black Mercedes.
Then one photograph made my blood run cold.
Florence was standing outside my company headquarters.
Beside her was my chief financial officer.
Thomas Reed.
Martin stared at the photograph.
“No.”
“You know him?”
“I've known Thomas for fifteen years.”
I looked at him.
“Could he be involved?”
Martin didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Then the conference-room door rattled.
Someone tried to open it.
We both froze.
A woman's voice came from outside.
“Jonathan?”
Florence.
I looked at Martin.
He silently closed the laptop.
I slipped the USB into my inside pocket.
Leo moved behind my legs.
Florence knocked again.
“Jonathan, sweetheart?”
Her voice sounded warm.
Concerned.
Perfect.
I opened the door halfway.
Florence stood there.
Her veil was still in place.
Her smile was still beautiful.
But her eyes immediately went to the laptop.
Then to my pocket.
Then to Leo.
Her expression changed for less than a second.
But this time I saw it clearly.
Fear.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked.
“I needed privacy.”
She smiled.
“Of course.”
Her eyes moved toward Leo.
“Where did you find him?”
I stared at her.
“He found me.”
Florence's smile disappeared.
Only for a moment.
Then she crouched.
“Leo, sweetheart, come to Aunt Florence.”
Leo immediately stepped backward.
“No.”
Her face tightened.
“Leo.”
He grabbed my hand.
“I don't like her.”
Florence stood slowly.
I had never seen anger cross her face before.
Now I did.
It was quick.
Cold.
And unmistakable.
Then she looked at me.
“Jonathan, we need to talk.”
“I agree.”
She took a breath.
“Before you hear something from someone else.”
“What am I going to hear?”
Her lips parted.
But before she could answer, my phone rang.
The caller ID showed Christina.
I answered immediately.
“Christina?”
There was no response.
Only breathing.
Then a man's voice said,
“If you want your daughter alive, don't marry Florence.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Florence was watching me.
She had gone completely pale.
And for the first time that day, I realized something terrifying.
Whatever was on that USB wasn't just about money.
May you like
It was about my daughter's life.
And the woman standing in front of me might know exactly where she was.
