Chapter 8: The Truth Behind the Door
The message from Daniel burned into my screen.
*Victoria, if Grant tells you I was there when your father died, ask him who was holding the weapon.*
For a few seconds, I couldn’t understand the words.
Not because they were complicated.
Because they were impossible.
A weapon.
My father.
Grant.
Daniel.
My mind rejected the connection before my heart could accept it.
“No.””
The word escaped my lips.
Everyone looked at me.
Grant immediately knew.
“What did he say?””
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
Because if I read the message out loud, it became real.
And some truths are easier to carry when they remain silent.
“Victoria.””
Grant stepped closer.
I held up my phone.
“Don’t.””
He stopped.
His expression changed.
Not guilt.
Not anger.
Fear.
Again.
The same fear I had seen when I asked about that night.
I looked at him.
“Did you have a weapon?””
The cabin went silent.
Sloane looked confused.
The executives looked away.
But Grant…
Grant closed his eyes.
Just for a moment.
And that was enough.
My entire body went cold.
“You did.””
“No.””
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
“You’re misunderstanding.””
“Am I?””
I looked at him.
“Daniel says you were there.””
“I was.””
“He says there was a weapon.””
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“Victoria, your father wasn’t murdered.””
The way he said it disturbed me.
Not because it sounded convincing.
Because it sounded rehearsed.
Like he had repeated those words to himself for years.
“Then why did Daniel mention a weapon?””
“I don’t know.””
“Why did you say you weren’t alone?””
Grant didn’t answer.
I felt something inside me break.
Because there it was.
The truth hidden beneath all the lies.
He had been there.
He had seen something.
And he had spent fifteen years deciding what I was allowed to know.
“You let me believe my father died because he was broken.””
His face changed.
“I never said that.””
“You let everyone believe it.””
“I was trying to protect his reputation.””
“No.””
My voice shook.
“You were trying to protect yours.””
The words hit.
I saw it.
A flash of pain.
But he didn’t deny it.
Sloane stepped forward.
“Victoria…”
I turned toward her.
“Did you know?””
She froze.
“Did you know about this?””
“No.””
Her answer was immediate.
“I swear.””
“You knew about the investigation.””
“Yes.””
“You knew Grant was hiding things.””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn’t you tell me?””
She looked down.
“Because I didn’t know who to trust.””
That answer was painfully familiar.
Because neither did I.
The jet suddenly felt smaller.
The walls felt closer.
A room full of people.
And somehow, I felt completely alone.
Captain Ellis appeared from the cockpit.
“Mrs. Ashford.””
I turned.
“Yes?””
“We have restored communication.””
Nobody relaxed.
Not completely.
Because the threat was still there.
“Did you find who accessed the system?””
The captain hesitated.
“Not exactly.””
“What does that mean?””
“We traced the attempt.””
“To where?””
He looked at the tablet.
“Ashford Dynamics’ internal network.””
Grant’s face darkened.
“Impossible.””
“Someone used company infrastructure.””
“Can you identify the device?””
The captain nodded slowly.
“Yes.””
Everyone waited.
Then he looked at me.
“The device belongs to Daniel Reed.””
The cabin exploded into silence.
I felt my stomach drop.
No.
Not again.
Another impossible truth.
Another person I trusted.
Grant looked at me.
And for the first time, I didn’t know whether he wanted to comfort me or convince me.
“You see?””
I looked at him.
“What?””
“Daniel is manipulating this.””
I stared.
“You knew he had access.””
“Yes.””
“And you didn’t tell me.””
“I didn’t know he was involved.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course.””
Grant’s expression hardened.
“You think I’m lying.””
“I think everyone is.””
The honesty surprised both of us.
Because it was true.
Every person connected to my father’s downfall had a secret.
Every person who claimed to help me had hidden something.
Grant.
Daniel.
Sloane’s father.
Marcus Whitmore.
Maybe even me.
Because I had spent years refusing to see the cracks.
I had loved the version of my life that existed before the truth.
The captain cleared his throat.
“There’s one more thing.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
“The flight data system recorded the access attempt.””
“And?””
“There was a message attached.””
Grant frowned.
“What message?””
The captain turned the tablet around.
A text appeared.
Short.
Simple.
Terrifying.
*She is awake. Move to phase two.*
I stared.
“She?””
Nobody spoke.
Then everyone slowly looked at me.
A cold feeling moved through my chest.
The message wasn’t about the investigation.
It wasn’t about the jet.
It was about me.
“What does that mean?””
Grant stepped forward.
“I don’t know.””
I looked at him.
“Stop saying that.””
“Victoria—”
“No.””
My voice became stronger.
“You know something.””
“I know someone is trying to hurt you.””
“Why?””
He hesitated.
And I saw it again.
The calculation.
The decision.
Whether to tell me.
Whether to hide.
I stepped closer.
“Tell me.””
Finally, he spoke.
“Because they think you have something.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“A document.””
“What document?””
Grant looked at the letter in my hand.
The one from Sloane.
“The original evidence your father found.””
I stared.
“That was destroyed.””
“No.””
The answer shocked me.
“No?””
“Your father made copies.””
My fingers tightened around the letter.
“Where?””
Grant looked at me.
“He gave one to me.””
My breath stopped.
“You had it?””
“Yes.””
“For fifteen years?””
“Yes.””
“Where is it?””
He looked away.
And that hurt more than anything.
Because even now.
Even now.
He was still deciding.
“Grant.””
He finally whispered:
“I lost it.””
The words were so quiet I almost didn’t hear them.
“You lost it?””
“Yes.””
“How?””
He looked at me.
“The night your father died.””
The pieces crashed together.
The call.
The meeting.
The secret.
The missing evidence.
“You went to see my father.””
“Yes.””
“Daniel was there?””
“Yes.””
“And the document?””
Grant’s voice broke slightly.
“He gave it to me.””
“Who?””
“Your father.””
I felt dizzy.
“He trusted you with proof.””
“Yes.””
“And then?””
Grant looked down.
“Then someone came.””
“Who?””
A long silence.
Then:
“Marcus.””
My heart pounded.
“Marcus Whitmore?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Grant’s eyes were filled with regret.
“Because he knew your father had discovered everything.””
“And what happened?””
Grant looked toward the window.
At the runway outside.
At the world waiting beyond this cabin.
“I confronted him.””
“And?””
“He threatened your father.””
“And you?””
“I tried to stop him.””
I swallowed.
“Did you?””
His silence answered.
“Grant.””
His voice dropped.
“I wasn’t fast enough.””
I stared.
“What does that mean?””
He looked at me.
“I found your father unconscious.””
The cabin became completely still.
“Was he alive?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because when I got there…”
He stopped.
I waited.
“When I got there, Daniel was already leaving.””
My heart sank.
“And the weapon?””
Grant looked at me.
“It was on the floor.””
“Whose weapon?””
His face changed.
And I knew.
I knew before he spoke.
“Daniel’s.””
The silence afterward was unbearable.
Because suddenly the story had two versions.
Daniel said Grant was lying.
Grant said Daniel was involved.
Someone was manipulating the truth.
Someone was trying to make me choose a side.
Then my phone buzzed again.
This time, not from Daniel.
Not from an unknown number.
From someone saved in my contacts.
Someone I never expected to hear from.
A message from Marcus Whitmore.
*Victoria, your husband finally told you part of the truth.*
My hands went cold.
Another message appeared.
*But he forgot to tell you the most important part.*
I stared.
May you like
Then the final message arrived.
*Your father wasn’t investigating me. He was investigating Grant.*
