Chapter 8 - What Her Father Feared

What Her Father Feared

Arabella arrived at her father’s house the following morning, carrying the folder in her handbag.

She had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered the silence that had followed her words the previous evening.

I have a document connected to the project.

Richard’s reaction had been immediate. The document had frightened him, and that frightened her more.

She found him in his study, standing beside the window. A cup of untouched coffee sat on the table behind him. He wore a pale blue shirt and dark trousers, but shadows beneath his eyes made him look older than usual.

“You came early,” he said.

“You told me to come in the morning.”

“I did.”

Arabella closed the door. “Are we going to talk, or are you going to spend the morning finding reasons not to?”

His mouth tightened. “You have become very impatient.”

“And you have become very secretive.”

“Arabella—”

“No, Daddy.” Her voice softened at the familiar title, but she refused to retreat. “I know the company is having problems. I know Adrian believes the old waterfront project has something to do with them. And I have a document connecting Montgomery Holdings to Knight Enterprises. Stop treating me like a child who cannot handle the truth.”

Richard looked away. Beneath his frustration, she saw something she had not expected: exhaustion.

“Sit down,” he said.

She took the chair opposite his desk and placed the folder between them. He did not touch it.

“Twenty years ago,” he began, “your grandfather and Adrian’s father entered a partnership to develop waterfront property in Westhaven. It was supposed to be a major project for both families. There were investors, contractors, lenders, and several companies handling different parts of the development.”

“I know that much.”

“What you don’t know is how quickly things fell apart.”

He sat down. “Payments were delayed. Figures in the accounts stopped matching the reports we received. Some transactions appeared authorised, but the people whose names were attached to them denied approving them. By the time we understood the seriousness of the discrepancies, the project was already in trouble.”

“Were funds missing?”

“We believed they were.”

“Did someone steal the money?”

“I cannot tell you that with certainty.”

“After twenty years, you still don’t know?”

“The records we relied on were not all reliable. Some had been altered; others were incomplete. We spent months trying to establish what had happened, but people were already protecting themselves. Every family involved had something to lose.”

“And the Knights lost their investment.”

“Yes.”

“While Montgomery Holdings survived.”

Richard’s expression hardened. “We survived the immediate collapse. That does not mean we walked away untouched.”

“But people believed we benefited.”

“Some did. Others believed the Knights had mismanaged their money. Accusations went in every direction, and neither family had enough trustworthy evidence to settle the matter.”

Arabella thought of Adrian’s insistence that she ask about the investment. She had assumed he wanted to make her uncomfortable. Perhaps he wanted answers himself.

“Did you and Adrian’s father investigate together?”

“We tried. But once the accusations began, trust became difficult. Every new piece of information seemed to contradict the last. Eventually, our lawyers took over, and the partnership ended.”

“Did you know the records had been manipulated?”

“I suspected it.”

“And you never told me?”

“You were a child. There was no reason to burden you with a business dispute that had supposedly been settled.”

“Supposedly?”

Richard rubbed his face.

Arabella took the folded document from her handbag. “Then explain this.”

He studied the company names and transaction references. When he reached the repeated reference number, his fingers tightened around the paper.

“You recognise it,” she said.

“I recognise the format.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“This appears to be a record from the old project, but I cannot authenticate it from this page alone. The figures need to be checked against the original accounts.”

“Why would an old reference appear alongside recent Montgomery Holdings entries?”

“I don’t know.”

“Could someone be using the old transactions to affect the company now?”

“It’s possible. But don’t confuse possibility with proof.”

The answer irritated her because it was reasonable—and because he was retreating into caution again.

“Who would have access to those records?”

“People who worked on the project. Accountants, legal advisers, financial officers. Some may no longer be alive or involved in business.”

“And Sebastian?”

Richard’s gaze sharpened. “Why are you bringing Sebastian into this?”

“Because the document was found in his car.”

For the first time that morning, her father looked genuinely unsettled.

“Who found it?”

“Vanessa.”

He placed the paper on the desk as though it had suddenly become dangerous to hold.

“Arabella, listen carefully. Do not accuse Sebastian of anything based on this document. And do not hand it to Adrian.”

“Why not?”

“If this record is genuine, the person who kept it may know more than we do. Until we understand what it means, we must be careful about who sees it.”

“You think someone is still hiding something.”

Richard said nothing.

His silence was answer enough.

Arabella took the document back. “I came here for the truth. Instead, I have another list of things you won’t tell me.”

“I have told you more today than I intended.”

“That isn’t the same as telling me everything.”

She turned towards the door.

“Arabella.”

She stopped.

“Whatever you discover about the waterfront project, remember that the people involved were not all what they appeared to be. Some made mistakes. Some lied. And some may have been deliberately misled.”

She looked back at him. “Which one were you?”

Her father’s face changed. For several seconds, he seemed unable to answer.

Then he said quietly, “That is a question I have asked myself for twenty years.”