CHAPTER 21: THE TRUTH ABOUT THAT NIGHT

The truth began with a photograph, but it ended with a name I never expected to hear.

Alexander had locked himself in his study after receiving Victoria's call. I waited outside for nearly twenty minutes before he finally opened the door.

“Come in, Amelia.”

I entered and found him standing beside his desk. Several documents were spread across the surface, along with a laptop displaying the confidential archive.

He looked exhausted.

“Sit down.”

“I'd rather stand.”

He studied me for a moment before nodding.

“Fair enough.”

I folded my arms.

“You said someone used my name to access the archive. I want to know why.”

He turned the laptop toward me.

“Because your name was entered into the system fifteen years ago.”

“That makes no sense. I was nine.”

“I know.”

“Then explain it.”

He took a slow breath.

“Fifteen years ago, my father was investigating missing money inside Blackwood International. Richard Hale was helping him. They discovered that several payments were being moved through companies that didn't officially exist.”

I remembered the black flash drive hidden in my handbag.

“Was that what Richard was investigating before he died?”

“Yes. But the money was only part of it.”

He picked up an old document.

“My father believed someone inside the company was using those payments to hide something much more serious. He was preparing to expose it when he died in what the police called an accident.”

“And Evelyn?”

“She was helping Richard investigate. She had access to some of the records because she worked with the company's charitable foundation.”

I frowned.

“Evelyn worked for your company?”

“She was more involved than that. She knew my father well. She also knew Richard.”

He paused.

“She believed my father's death wasn't an accident.”

The room seemed to grow colder.

“And you believed her?”

“Not at first.”

I looked at him.

“Of course you didn't.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.

“On the night you witnessed the incident at the hotel, Richard was supposed to meet me. He had contacted me earlier that evening and said he finally had proof connecting the missing money to my father's death.”

“What happened?”

“I arrived at the hotel before him. He was already waiting in one of the private rooms. We argued.”

“About what?”

“He accused me of protecting someone.”

“Sebastian?”

Alexander looked away.

“He wouldn't tell me who. He said I was making the same mistake my father had made—trusting the wrong people.”

I remembered Alexander's bloodied shirt cuff.

“Was that why there was blood on your shirt?”

He looked at me.

“Yes.”

My stomach tightened.

“What happened to Richard?”

“He was injured during the confrontation. I didn't strike him, but I was there when he fell.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“No. I expect you to ask questions.”

His honesty unsettled me more than another denial would have.

He continued.

“I called my head of security. Two men arrived to remove Richard from the hotel room before the police were called.”

“Why?”

“Because Richard was carrying confidential documents, and I believed the people watching the hotel were waiting for him. I thought moving him would keep him alive.”

“Did it?”

Alexander's silence was answer enough.

“Where is he now?” I asked.

“I don't know.”

I stared at him.

“You don't know?”

“He disappeared after that night. My people searched for him. We found traces of blood, but no body.”

I remembered his fingers moving.

The flash drive falling.

The way I had picked it up while everyone else was distracted.

“Why did you need my silence?”

“Because you saw me leaving the room. You saw Richard being carried away. And you may have seen someone else.”

“Someone else?”

Alexander nodded.

“The hotel cameras recorded you entering the corridor. But the footage from the opposite end of the hallway was erased.”

My heart began to race.

“Why would someone erase it?”

“Because there was another person in that corridor.”

I stared at him.

“Who?”

“We don't know.”

I took a step closer.

“You knew there was another person and still let me believe you were only trying to protect the company?”

“I was trying to protect more than the company.”

“Then why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I didn't know whether you were involved.”

The words hit me like a slap.

“Excuse me?”

He looked directly at me.

“Richard had mentioned Thomas Carter before he died. I knew your father had received money from the company. I didn't know what he had done with it, or whether you knew anything about it.”

“So you brought me here because you suspected me?”

“Partly.”

I laughed, but my eyes were burning.

“You offered me money, paid my mother's bills, arranged Daniel's education, and gave me a room in your mansion because you suspected I was connected to a crime?”

“I needed to keep you close while I investigated.”

“And you thought I wouldn't notice?”

“I thought it was the safest option.”

“For whom? Me or you?”

He didn't answer.

I looked at the contract folder on his desk.

“You knew I was desperate. You knew I would do almost anything to keep my family safe.”

“Amelia—”

“You used that.”

His face tightened.

“Yes.”

The admission left me speechless.

He stepped away from the desk.

“I won't pretend my reasons make it right. I was trying to find out what Thomas Carter had taken, and why Richard believed your family was connected to it.”

“My father is dead. He can't defend himself.”

“I know.”

“And you didn't even give me the chance to decide whether I wanted to help.”

“I was wrong.”

I looked at him, searching for the cold billionaire who had first interrogated me in his office.

He was still there.

But now I could see the guilt beneath his controlled expression.

“What did my father take?”

Alexander opened another document.

“We believe he removed an original record from the company. Something connected to the payments and my father's death.”

“Was that why he received the money?”

“We think so. But we don't know whether he was paid to hide it, paid to protect it, or paid to steal it.”

I stared at the page.

My father had always told me that money could solve problems, but it could also create them. I had never understood how much he might have known.

“Why does the system call me the final witness?”

“Because your father named you.”

My breath caught.

“What?”

Alexander turned the laptop toward me.

A scanned letter appeared on the screen. The handwriting was old and uneven.

I recognised the signature immediately.

Thomas Carter.

At the bottom, beneath several lines of blurred text, were the words:

If anything happens to me, Amelia must never be brought into this.

My eyes filled.

“He was trying to protect me.”

“That's what it looks like.”

I wiped my cheek quickly.

“Then why does the archive say I'm the final witness?”

“Because someone changed the record after your father's death.”

“Who?”

“We're still investigating.”

I looked at him.

“You keep saying we're investigating. But how much of this investigation is actually about finding the truth, and how much is about protecting your family?”

His eyes held mine.

“I don't know anymore.”

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then I remembered something.

“The photograph Jake sent me. Evelyn was standing with Richard outside the hotel. She was holding a document with my father's signature.”

Alexander went still.

“Show me.”

I took out my phone and opened the photograph.

He studied it closely.

“Where did you get this?”

“Someone from my past sent it.”

“Who?”

“Jake Miller.”

His expression hardened.

“Have you met him recently?”

“No. We spoke on the phone.”

“Amelia, why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I wasn't sure I could trust you.”

He looked as though he wanted to argue, but the words never came.

I zoomed in on the photograph.

Something behind Evelyn caught my attention.

A reflection in the hotel window.

A man standing near the entrance.

I enlarged the image.

The face was partly hidden, but I recognised the shape of his suit and the silver watch on his wrist.

I looked at Alexander.

“Do you know who that is?”

He leaned closer.

His expression changed immediately.

“That's impossible.”

“Who is it?”

He didn't answer at first.

Then he spoke in a low voice.

“Victoria.”

My heart began to pound.

“Your assistant?”

He nodded slowly.

“She told me she wasn't at the hotel that night.”

I stared at the photograph again.

The woman who had worked beside Alexander for six years, the woman who knew his security arrangements and private office code, had been standing outside the hotel when Richard disappeared.

And if the reflection was genuine, she had known far more about that night than either of us had realised.

Alexander reached for his phone.

Before he could make the call, another message appeared on my screen.

It was from Jake.

Amelia, there's something else you need to know. Victoria wasn't the only person at the hotel. Someone inside Alexander's family arranged the meeting.

A second message followed.

And I have proof.

I looked up at Alexander.

For the first time, I wondered whether the person who knew the full truth was already sitting at the same table as us every morning.