Chapter 8 - WHAT MOM NEVER TOLD ME

I wanted to be furious, but I saw how terrified she had been.

Edward Whitmore visited three days after Dad’s funeral with flowers, a lawyer and a threat wrapped in sympathy.

“He knew about your tournaments,” Mom said. “He knew everything.”

Edward offered a settlement. Mom refused.

Two weeks later, an anonymous foundation began paying her medical costs. When canceling threatened treatment authorization, she stopped asking questions.

“They built a cage out of medical bills,” I said.

Mom looked down.

“Yes.”

That night, Dominic came to our apartment.

I told him what Edward had done.

Dominic’s expression hardened.

“Vanessa knows?”

“I don’t know.”

“She knew about Linda’s illness.”

Dominic called his investigator.

Within an hour, we had the Whitmore Foundation’s payment history.

The latest renewal carried Vanessa’s signature. She had maintained the same pressure her father started.

Dominic closed his eyes.

“I was going to marry her.”

“That sounds like your problem.”

“It is.”

His phone buzzed.

He read the message.

Then looked at me.

“Edward Whitmore is flying back from Zurich.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

Mom went pale.

I asked, “Why now?”

Dominic turned the screen around.

A private aviation alert showed Edward’s jet.

Below it, another message from Luca:

Someone accessed the Moretti estate security archive.

Birthday footage deleted from internal server.

Dominic frowned.

“The guests still have copies.”

“They’re not after the slap video,” I said.

“What, then?”

I remembered Vanessa repeatedly requesting me as her driver.

Seven weeks.

Seven weeks of cameras recording every arrival.

I looked at Dominic.

“Does your gate scan license plates?”

“Yes.”

“Faces?”

“Yes.”

“Do you keep copies of IDs for delivery access?”

His face changed.

“Avery…”

Then Luca called.

“A car is parked outside Ms. Carter’s building.”

I looked through the blinds.

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