Chapter 12
I closed my eyes.
Rebecca’s voice softened.
“Three years ago, I found the original files in my father’s study. The copies used against you were not complete. The originals showed that Daniel had been investigating someone inside Russo Global before he died.”
Alexander lifted his head.
“My father?”
“No,” Rebecca said on the recording. “I mean mine.”
The message continued.
“Daniel discovered that money was being diverted through the company’s private security division. The transfers passed through several shell organizations, then returned to accounts controlled by a person called Rook. I don’t know whether that was a name or a code.”
Alexander went still.
“Rook,” he repeated.
I remembered the documents in my bag. One of the earliest payment records had contained the same word in the margin. I had assumed it referred to an intermediary.
Rebecca continued.
“My father confronted the person responsible. After that, he began preparing to remove you from the company. I think he intended to blame the missing money on Claire.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened.
“Why would he blame her?”
“Because no one would question evidence involving an outsider. And because he believed Alexander would choose the family over his wife.”
I looked at him.
He did not meet my eyes.
The recording crackled again.
“I was part of the plan because I was useful. My father told me that if I accused Claire, Alexander would divorce her and the company would remain stable. He said Ethan would be safe. He promised me that Claire would leave with enough money to start over.”
My fingers trembled against the receiver.
“He lied to me too.”
A quiet breath came through the line.
“I should have gone to the police when I learned the truth. Instead, I tried to find proof without telling anyone. I thought if I could understand the accounts, I could expose him. But someone found out I had been searching.”
The recording paused.
Then Rebecca whispered, “That was when the threats began.”
Alexander looked at me sharply.
“What threats?”
The message continued.
“Not direct threats. A photograph left at my apartment. A letter with my father’s old signature. A note telling me that if I spoke, Ethan would be the first person blamed for what happened next.”
My stomach tightened.
Rebecca’s voice remained controlled, but the fear beneath it was unmistakable.
“I know Ethan is safe now. I know he is nearly grown. But I was young and frightened, and I let fear become an excuse for silence.”