Chapter 6: The Wedding That Started Falling Apart
The next morning, I woke up knowing one thing.
The wedding could not happen.
Not yet.
How could I stand at an altar and promise forever while my entire life was built on questions?
Vanessa was already awake when I entered the bedroom.
She had packed a suitcase.
I stopped.
“What are you doing?””
She looked at me.
“Leaving.””
I didn’t expect that.
“You’re leaving?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Because every time you look at me, you see a suspect.””
I stayed silent.
Because she wasn’t wrong.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I admitted.
She nodded.
“I know.””
For a moment, we were just two people standing in a room that no longer felt like ours.
“I never wanted to hurt you,” she whispered.
“But you lied.””
“Yes.””
“Why didn’t you tell me about your father?””
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
She looked down.
“That you would choose your family over the truth.””
I almost responded.
But I couldn’t.
Because deep down, I knew she was right about one thing.
Families had a way of protecting their own.
Even when they were wrong.
Before she left, she placed something on the table.
A small key.
“What is this?””
“My mother gave it to me before she disappeared.””
I looked at it.
“She told me never to use it unless Richard Carter’s son discovered the truth.””
My heart stopped.
“What does it open?””
“I don’t know.””
“Then why give it to me?””
“Because I think she wanted you to have it.””
After Vanessa left, I took the key to my father’s office.
It wasn’t for a drawer.
Not for a box.
Not for anything obvious.
Then I remembered.
The journal.
"The original documents are not hidden in the library.""
I searched the office again.
This time, I looked at the walls.
The floor.
The ceiling.
Near the fireplace, I found a small keyhole hidden behind a wooden panel.
The key fit perfectly.
A section of the wall opened.
Inside was a hidden room.
My father had built an entire secret chamber inside his office.
And inside that chamber was everything.
Financial records.
Photographs.
Letters.
Evidence.
I turned on the light.
The first thing I saw was a photograph of my father with a woman.
Vanessa’s mother.
They were standing together outside Carter Industries.
Not secretly.
Not romantically.
Professionally.
Then I found a letter.
"Richard,
If anything happens to me, you must tell Nathaniel the truth.
The person who stole from the company is not my husband.
He was framed.""
I stopped.
Vanessa’s father had been framed.
But by who?
I kept reading.
"The real person responsible has access to every account, every document, and every room in your house.""
Every room.
My hands went cold.
Because only one person matched that description.
The estate manager.
Bennett.
Suddenly, the lights went out.
I froze.
A sound came from behind me.
Someone was inside the room.
I turned.
A figure stood in the darkness.
“Who’s there?””
No answer.
Then footsteps.
Running.
I grabbed my phone flashlight and chased after them.
They escaped through the side entrance.
But they dropped something.
A wallet.
I picked it up.
Inside was an identification card.
My heart stopped.
May you like
Because the name on it belonged to someone who had been dead for fifteen years.
Vanessa’s mother.
