Chapter 8 - The Death Of Richard Sinclair
My father's death certificate said cardiac arrest.
He had collapsed at his country estate after dinner.
I arrived twenty minutes after the ambulance.
Marcus held me while doctors told me they had done everything possible.
I had believed that story for ten years.
Until now.
"What happened?"
Marcus looked older than he had the day before.
"Richard was poisoned."
I stopped breathing.
Samuel whispered, "How do you know?"
"Because I was there before Amelia arrived."
Rage moved through me.
"You never told me."
"Richard made me promise."
"My father was dying."
"He knew."
Marcus stood.
"He called me himself."
The room became unnaturally quiet.
"What did he say?"
Marcus swallowed.
"He said Charles had finally made his move."
Samuel cursed.
Marcus continued.
"Richard knew someone had put something in his drink."
"Did you call an ambulance?"
"Immediately."
"Police?"
"He refused."
"Why?"
"Because he thought Charles would disappear if he knew Richard had discovered him."
I stared at him.
"My father sacrificed himself to protect a corporate investigation?"
"No."
Marcus shook his head.
"To protect you."
He explained that Richard believed Charles had built a network inside the company over decades.
Executives.
Bankers.
Lawyers.
Vendors.
If Richard publicly accused him without complete evidence, Charles could destroy the trust records and target me.
"So my father died and you did nothing."
"I spent ten years trying to finish his investigation."
I laughed bitterly.
"Between vacations with Vanessa?"
Pain crossed his face.
"I said I made unforgivable mistakes."
"No."
I moved closer.
"You don't get to hide betrayal behind some heroic secret."
"I'm not."
Marcus met my eyes.
"I loved you."
"Loved?"
"I still do."
I turned away.
That sentence had arrived years too late.
Samuel began sorting the letters.
One contained a list of shell companies.
Blue Meridian was among them.
Another contained a handwritten family tree.
Richard Sinclair.
Thomas Sinclair.
Victoria Sinclair Mercer.
And a second twin.
No first name.
Only an initial.
V.
Marcus leaned over.
"Both start with V?"
Samuel frowned.
"Maybe."
I searched the remaining letters.
Then found a sealed envelope marked FOR AMELIA AFTER THE SECOND GIRL APPEARS.
My heartbeat accelerated.
Inside was a photograph.
Two babies.
On the back, my father had written their names.
Victoria.
Vanessa.
The room seemed to disappear.
I sat down.
"No."
Marcus grabbed the photograph.
His entire body went rigid.
Vanessa Cross.
Twenty-six years old according to every record we knew.
But the woman in the photograph would now be thirty-eight.
"Fake identity," Samuel said quietly.
I remembered Vanessa's obsession with appearing younger.
Her carefully guarded past.
Her refusal to discuss family.
Her sudden arrival eleven months earlier.
She had not accidentally seduced my husband.
She had entered my life.
My marriage.
My hotel.
By design.
Marcus stared at the photograph.
"She knew."
I looked at him.
"Of course she knew."
He shook his head.
"No."
His voice sounded sick.
"She knew who you were when she met me."
The humiliation transformed into something darker.
Vanessa had not wanted Marcus.
Not really.
She wanted access.
And Marcus had opened every door.
Samuel's phone rang.
He answered.
Then slowly looked at me.
"Charles has called an emergency shareholder meeting."
"When?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"On what grounds?"
He hesitated.
"Vanessa Cross has filed a legal claim under her birth name."
I already knew what he would say.
"Vanessa Sinclair."
Samuel nodded.
"She claims Article Nine is invalid."
Marcus stared at me.
"How?"
May you like
Samuel placed the phone down.
"Because she's claiming your father concealed a rightful heir."
