Chapter 3 - THE BANK ACCOUNT
The next morning, Emily refused to eat breakfast.
She sat at the edge of the hotel bed, staring at the floor.
“You need to eat,” I said.
“I can't.”
“You haven't eaten properly in days.”
She looked at me.
“I've gotten used to being hungry.”
That sentence nearly broke me.
Lily was sitting at the small table, eating pancakes.
I watched her carefully.
She ate slowly, as if someone might take the plate away.
I sat beside Emily.
“Tell me everything.”
She shook her head.
“Daniel, your mother told me you wanted a divorce.”
“What?”
“She said you had another woman in Dubai.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She said you were building a new life.”
I felt sick.
“And you believed her?”
Emily's eyes filled with tears.
“I didn't want to.”
She wiped her face.
“But every time I called you, your mother told me you were busy.”
I pulled out my phone.
“I never stopped calling.”
Emily looked confused.
I opened my call history.
Hundreds of unanswered calls.
Messages.
Voice notes.
Emails.
All sent to Emily's old number.
She stared.
“I never received these.”
I looked at her.
“Who had access to your phone?”
She hesitated.
“My mother-in-law.”
There it was.
The first crack in the wall.
I immediately contacted my bank.
The transfers were easy to verify.
Four years.
Forty-eight months.
More than one hundred thousand dollars sent to my mother's account.
But then something caught my attention.
There were withdrawals.
Huge ones.
$8,000.
$12,500.
$19,000.
One transfer was for $37,000.
I stared at the screen.
“What the hell?”
The banker explained that the money had been moved into several accounts.
Some belonged to my mother.
Others belonged to a company.
B. Holdings LLC.
I recognized the name.
My mother's initials.
I felt a cold sensation move through my body.
“Can you tell me who owns it?”
The banker paused.
“You're listed as the beneficial owner.”
I froze.
“What?”
“According to these documents, you established the company four years ago.”
“I never did.”
He became cautious.
“Sir, there are signed documents.”
“Send me copies.”
An hour later, the files arrived.
I opened them.
My signature appeared on every page.
Except it wasn't my signature.
It looked close.
Very close.
But I knew my own handwriting.
Someone had forged it.
And whoever did it had access to my personal information.
I called a lawyer.
Her name was Rachel Morgan.
She had handled several international financial fraud cases.
We met that afternoon.
She examined the documents without speaking.
Finally, she looked up.
“This is serious.”
“How serious?”
“If these documents are genuine filings, someone created a company using your identity and moved money through it.”
“Can they go to prison?”
“If we prove fraud, absolutely.”
I leaned forward.
“Then prove it.”
Rachel looked at me.
“There's something else.”
She slid another document across the table.
“This company purchased property.”
I stared at the address.
My stomach dropped.
It was the mansion.
The mansion I believed I owned.
“That's impossible.”
Rachel shook her head.
“Your name is on the mortgage.”
“But the deed?”
She pointed.
“Beatrice Caldwell.”
My mother.
I sat back.
For four years, I had believed I owned the house.
But legally, my mother did.
Rachel looked at me.
“Daniel, someone has been planning this for a long time.”
My phone rang.
It was Emily.
I answered.
“What's wrong?”
Her voice trembled.
“Daniel... Lily found something.”
“What?”
“She was looking through the bag of clothes from the shed.”
I stood.
“What did she find?”
“A letter.”
“Read it.”
Emily was silent.
Then she said:
“It says... ‘When your father comes home, tell him nothing.’”
My heart stopped.
“Who wrote it?”
Emily's voice broke.
“Your brother.”
I hung up.
Rachel watched my face.
“What happened?”
I stood.
“It's time to go home.”
“Daniel, don't go there alone.”
“I won't.”
I picked up my phone.
“I'll bring the police.”
Because now I understood.
My family hadn't simply neglected my wife and daughter.
They had planned to keep me away.
They had stolen my money.
Forged my signature.
Taken my house.
And lied to my wife.
But there was still one question I couldn't answer.
May you like
Why?
What were they so afraid I would discover?
