Chapter 12 - THE SECRET FILE ON MY FATHER
I confronted my father that night.
“What did Andrew mean?”
Alejandro did not pretend ignorance.
That worried me.
He poured two glasses of water.
Not whiskey.
My father never drank when the conversation mattered.
“Andrew has been searching my history.”
“For what?”
“Anything he could use.”
“Did he find something?”
My father sat down.
“Possibly.”
I remained standing.
“Dad.”
He looked older than usual.
“There was a company called Valencia Shipping.”
I knew the name vaguely.
It had collapsed almost twenty-five years earlier.
My father continued.
“Your grandfather invested heavily in it.”
“What happened?”
“The founder committed fraud.”
“Were we involved?”
“No.”
I studied his face.
“There’s more.”
“Yes.”
My father exhaled slowly.
“When regulators began investigating, I discovered one of our executives had helped hide transactions.”
“What did you do?”
“I fired him.”
“And?”
“I paid restitution to affected investors.”
“That sounds legal.”
“It was.”
“Then what is Andrew holding?”
My father looked toward the window.
“The executive was Margaret Whitmore’s brother.”
I froze.
“Margaret?”
“He blamed me for destroying his career.”
“What happened to him?”
“He disappeared from the industry.”
“And Andrew knows this?”
“Apparently.”
Pieces moved in my mind.
Margaret’s hatred.
Her obsession with my family background despite pretending not to know who I was.
I suddenly understood.
“She knew.”
My father nodded.
“Margaret knew exactly who you were.”
The room tilted.
For four years, Margaret had called me ordinary.
Cheap.
Unworthy.
But it had all been deliberate.
“She recognized my surname.”
“Yes.”
“From the beginning?”
“Yes.”
My hands curled.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You loved Andrew.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I hoped she had changed.”
I stared at him.
“She spent four years humiliating me because of something that happened before I was born.”
My father said nothing.
Then another realization struck me.
“Did Andrew know?”
“I don’t know.”
My phone rang.
It was my attorney.
I answered immediately.
“We found something in Margaret’s archived email.”
“What?”
“A message sent one week before your wedding.”
I held my breath.
“What did it say?”
My attorney read it aloud.
Mariana Escalante is the daughter of the man who ruined this family.
Let Andrew marry her.
One day, we’ll make her family pay us back.
I closed my eyes.
May you like
My marriage had not merely fallen apart.
It may never have been an accident in the first place.
