Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
We drove for nearly an hour before Alexander stopped at an old house outside Los Angeles.
It was small.
Quiet.
Nothing like the mansions where I had spent the previous eleven years.
The children were asleep in the back seat.
I stepped inside.
Alexander locked the door behind us.
“Now tell me.”
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he walked to a bookshelf and pulled out an old box.
Inside were dozens of letters.
All from my mother.
I opened the first.
Alexander, if you're reading this, I'm probably already gone.
My heart broke.
I read the next paragraph.
They know about Mariana.
I stopped.
“They knew I existed?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Since you were born.”
I continued reading.
Rebecca promised me she would protect my daughter.
I laughed bitterly.
“She didn't.”
“No.”
“She destroyed me.”
Alexander nodded.
“She believed eliminating your mother wasn't enough.”
I looked up.
“What does that mean?”
“She wanted control of the trust.”
“But the trust was mine.”
“Exactly.”
He handed me another document.
It showed the original trust structure.
My mother had left me ownership of a controlling interest in Whitmore-Hart Holdings.
The company was worth hundreds of millions.
I stared at the number.
“This can't be real.”
“It is.”
“Then why did I live like I had nothing?”
“Because the trust was frozen.”
“By whom?”
“Rebecca.”
I felt sick.
For years she had watched me struggle through fertility treatments.
She knew I had money.
She knew I had rights.
Yet she allowed me to believe I was worthless.
I remembered every dinner.
Every insult.
Every time she told Ryan I was wasting his life.
Suddenly, I heard a noise from upstairs.
I froze.
Alexander reached for the lamp.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yes.”
He motioned for me to stay behind him.
We climbed the stairs.
The hallway was empty.
Then a door opened.
A woman stood inside.
Older.
Thin.
Her hair was silver.
But her eyes—
I knew those eyes.
I couldn't breathe.
“Mom?”
The woman began crying.
“Mariana.”
My knees almost gave out.
Alexander caught my arm.
For a moment, I couldn't move.
Then I ran.
I threw my arms around her.
She held me like I was still a little girl.
“I thought you were dead.”
“I wanted you to believe that.”
“Why?”
“To keep you alive.”
I pulled back.
“What happened?”
She looked toward Alexander.
Then at the sleeping children downstairs.
“They're Ryan's?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Oh, God.”
“Mom, what did Rebecca do?”
My mother sat down.
“Rebecca didn't start this.”
“Then who did?”
“Charles.”
Ryan's father.
She told me everything.
Charles Montgomery had been using the family company to move money through shell corporations.
My mother discovered the scheme.
She threatened to expose him.
He threatened me.
So she disappeared.
But Rebecca helped him.
Not because she wanted the money.
Because she was afraid.
“Afraid of what?”
My mother looked at me.
“Charles had proof that Rebecca had committed a crime.”
“What crime?”
She shook her head.
“Something terrible.”
Before I could ask, headlights appeared outside.
My mother stood.
“They found us.”
Alexander looked through the window.
Three cars.
My blood ran cold.
“Who?”
My mother whispered:
“Charles's men.”
I looked at my sleeping children.
Then I heard glass shatter downstairs.
Someone had broken the window.
Alexander grabbed my arm.
“Back door.”
We ran.
But before I reached the stairs, my mother stopped me.
“Mariana.”
I turned.
She looked terrified.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“Ryan doesn't know.”
“Know what?”
She whispered:
“Your children weren't the only reason Rebecca wanted you gone.”
A gunshot exploded downstairs.
May you like
My mother grabbed my hand.
“She knows you're the rightful owner of the Montgomery empire.”
