Chapter 8: The Recording
We moved into a private conference room inside the bank.
Security remained outside.
Brandon sat at one end of the table with an officer beside him.
Mara sat across from me.
My father stood behind my chair.
The flash drive rested between us.
I stared at it.
“You're certain this is real?””
Mara nodded.
“I recorded it myself.””
“Why?””
“Because I knew one day I'd need proof.””
Dad looked at her.
“Proof of what?””
Mara took a breath.
“That Brandon wasn't the person running everything.””
I looked at her.
“Who was?””
She hesitated.
“Someone you know.””
My stomach tightened.
“Who?””
“Not yet.””
Dad's voice was firm.
“Play the recording.””
Mara inserted the drive.
A laptop screen came alive.
The audio began with a door closing.
Then Brandon's voice.
“She's not going to sign.””
Another man's voice answered.
“Then make her.””
I froze.
I knew that voice.
Not from business.
From family dinners.
From Christmas.
From weddings.
From the courthouse.
I looked at Dad.
He was already staring at me.
The recording continued.
Brandon said, “Elena doesn't trust me anymore.””
The other man laughed.
“She never should have.””
My heart stopped.
The voice belonged to *Thomas Vale*.
Our former financial adviser.
The man who had managed some of my company's most important accounts.
The man whose name had appeared beside the $480,000 transfer.
I covered my mouth.
Brandon asked, “What if she finds Northstar?””
“Then she won't have a company left to investigate.””
“What about her father?””
“Dominic is a problem.””
“He knows something.””
“He knows enough to be dangerous.””
The recording crackled.
Then Thomas spoke again.
“Your job is simple. Keep Elena distracted.””
Brandon laughed.
“With Savannah?””
“With Savannah.””
I closed my eyes.
Then Thomas said:
“She'll blame the affair. She won't look at the money.””
The room went silent.
I felt something inside me break.
Not heartbreak.
Something colder.
Understanding.
My divorce hadn't been the beginning.
It had been the cover story.
The recording continued.
Brandon asked, “What happens when she divorces me?””
“By then, the acquisition will be complete.””
“What if she freezes the cards?””
“She won't know about the emergency reserve.””
“She might.””
“Then use the old laptop.””
My father clenched his fist.
Thomas continued.
“Once the $3.87 million clears, Hayes Capital acquires the hospitality division.””
“And Northstar?””
“Close it.””
“What about the other accounts?””
“Move them through the offshore structure.””
I looked at Dad.
His expression was grim.
“How much?”” Brandon asked on the recording.
Thomas answered.
“Enough to make Elena think she failed.””
The recording ended.
No one spoke.
I stared at the blank screen.
“So Thomas planned all of this.””
Mara shook her head.
“Not all of it.””
“What do you mean?””
“Thomas worked for someone else.””
Dad's voice was quiet.
“Who?””
Mara looked directly at me.
“Your mother.””
I stopped breathing.
“My mother died seven years ago.””
“I know.””
“Then what are you saying?””
Mara reached into the folder.
She pulled out a photograph.
It showed my mother standing beside Richard Hayes.
I had never seen it before.
They were smiling.
Behind them was the same Chicago hotel property Brandon had acquired three years earlier.
I stared at the picture.
“Where did you get this?””
“Richard's files.””
“Why were they together?””
Mara shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Dad took the photograph.
His face changed.
“You do.””
Mara looked at him.
“You recognize it?””
“I recognize the building.””
Dad studied the photograph.
“This was taken twenty-four years ago.””
I looked at him.
“How do you know?””
“The newspaper in the background.””
He pointed.
“The date.””
I stared.
Twenty-four years.
I was twelve.
My mother had been alive.
My father had still been married to her.
And Richard Hayes had apparently been part of her life.
“Dad?””
He didn't answer.
“Did you know Richard?””
“Yes.””
The word hit me like a slap.
“You knew him?””
“Professionally.””
“For how long?””
“Years.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
Dad looked away.
“Because it wasn't relevant.””
“To what?””
He hesitated.
“To you.””
Mara shook her head.
“It was relevant.””
Dad turned toward her.
“Be careful.””
Mara stood.
“You've been protecting Elena from this for twenty-four years.””
My blood ran cold.
“Protecting me from what?””
My father didn't answer.
I stood.
“Dad.””
He looked at me.
“What happened twenty-four years ago?””
Silence.
“Tell me.””
He finally said:
“Richard Hayes was under investigation.””
“For fraud?””
“Yes.””
“What kind?””
“Money laundering.””
I stared at him.
“And Mom?””
Dad's face tightened.
“She was one of the people who helped investigators.””
I frowned.
“That doesn't explain the photograph.””
“No.””
“Then explain it.””
Dad sat down.
His shoulders seemed suddenly older.
“Your mother wasn't helping the investigation voluntarily.””
“What does that mean?””
“She was involved.””
I felt my knees weaken.
“Involved in what?””
“Richard's operation.””
My father's voice cracked slightly.
“She helped move money.””
I stared at him.
“No.””
“I found out later.””
“How much?””
“I don't know.””
“Did she go to prison?””
“No.””
“Why?””
Dad looked at me.
“Because she cooperated.””
The room spun.
My mother.
My childhood.
Everything I remembered about her.
The woman who taught me how to draw.
The woman who encouraged me to build Rossi Design Group.
The woman who told me never to trust anyone who made money look easy.
She had once helped move dirty money.
Mara spoke softly.
“And Richard never forgot.””
I looked at her.
“What did he want?””
“Control.””
“Of what?””
“Your family.””
I stared.
“Why?””
Mara opened another file.
Inside was an old corporate document.
The company listed was one I'd never heard of.
But the beneficiary was my mother.
And the amount was enormous.
*$7.4 million.*
Dad closed his eyes.
I whispered:
“She had money.””
“Yes.””
“How much?””
“Enough to start your company.””
I looked at him.
My entire body went cold.
“Rossi Design Group.””
Dad nodded.
“The money that started your company…”
He couldn't finish.
I did.
“Came from Richard Hayes.””
The silence was unbearable.
Brandon suddenly laughed from across the room.
I turned.
He looked exhausted.
But he was smiling.
“You finally figured it out.””
My father stepped toward him.
“What did you say?””
Brandon leaned back.
“You think I'm the villain.””
He looked at me.
“I was just collecting a debt.””
“What debt?””
“Your mother owed my family.””
I shook my head.
“She was dead.””
“Debt doesn't die.””
My father grabbed the table.
“You're lying.””
Brandon smiled.
“Ask Elena where the first Rossi Design Group investment came from.””
I stared at Dad.
He didn't look at me.
And that was the answer.
The door opened.
A federal investigator entered.
“Mr. Rossi?””
Dad turned.
“Yes?””
“We need to speak with you.””
“About what?””
The investigator looked at me.
“Your daughter isn't the only person whose identity was used.””
My stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?””
He placed a document on the table.
“Someone filed a criminal complaint this morning.””
Against whom?
I looked down.
May you like
My name was on it.
And the accusation was *embezzlement of $11.4 million from Rossi Design Group.*
