Chapter 7 - THE SECRETARY WAS HIDING A SECOND IDENTITY“SOPHIA CARTER DIDN'T COME TO MORETTI HOLDINGS BY ACCIDENT, CLAIRE. HER FATHER LOST EVERYTHING AFTER MY FATHER ACCUSED HIM OF STEALING COMPANY MONEY.”
Vincent's revelation left me speechless.
I stood beside the kitchen counter in the penthouse, holding my phone so tightly that my fingers hurt.
Daniel Carter.
The name sounded vaguely familiar.
I remembered hearing it during my childhood, whispered during conversations between my father and Eleanor.
There had been a lawsuit.
A disgraced accountant.
A financial scandal involving a Moretti development partnership.
But I had been too young to understand.
“What happened to Daniel?” I asked.
Vincent hesitated.
“He was the financial controller for one of the companies my father and your father worked with. About twenty years ago, money disappeared from several accounts. My father accused him of taking it.”
“Was he convicted?”
“No. There wasn't enough evidence for criminal charges. But he was fired, sued, and effectively blacklisted.”
I felt a chill.
“And Sophia is his daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know when you hired her?”
“No. She used her mother's maiden name professionally at first. Carter was her legal surname, but it didn't mean anything to me.”
I frowned.
“You've known her for years. You never asked about her family?”
Vincent sighed.
“Apparently, I didn't ask enough questions about anyone.”
For once, I couldn't disagree.
“Why did she have his photograph?”
“I don't know.”
“Have you confronted her?”
“Not yet.”
“Don't.”
“Claire—”
“Vincent, if Sophia's father was falsely accused, she may have been looking for evidence against Richard long before you became involved with her.”
He was quiet.
Then he asked:
“Are you saying she used me?”
I looked at the photograph of our wedding still hanging on the wall.
“Would that surprise you?”
He didn't answer.
I ended the call and immediately contacted Nathan.
Within an hour, we were sitting in his conference room with Eleanor.
She confirmed that Daniel Carter had worked for the original Bennett-Moretti development partnership.
“He was a decent man,” Eleanor said.
She looked troubled.
“Quiet, meticulous, devoted to his wife and little girl.”
“Was he guilty?” I asked.
Eleanor shook her head.
“Your father never believed he stole anything.”
I stared at her.
“Then why was he fired?”
“Richard needed someone to blame. Daniel had access to the accounts. When irregularities surfaced, Richard claimed Daniel had acted alone.”
Nathan leaned forward.
“What happened after the lawsuit?”
“Daniel lost his career. His marriage collapsed. He moved out of state.”
“And Sophia?”
“She was a child. I don't know what became of her.”
I thought about Sophia standing in my father's library.
Her nervous expression.
Her warning that some secrets were dangerous.
Suddenly, her behavior made more sense.
Not all of it.
But enough.
“She knew Richard,” I whispered.
Eleanor nodded.
“She may have known far more than Vincent realized.”
Nathan studied me.
“What are you thinking?”
“That Sophia didn't join Moretti Holdings just to become Vincent's secretary.”
Eleanor looked down at her hands.
“Then perhaps she's been searching for the same answers your father wanted.”
I stared at the table.
The idea was unsettling.
Sophia had helped destroy my marriage.
But she might also be someone whose family had been destroyed by Richard.
Both things could be true.
That afternoon, Nathan arranged a meeting with a forensic accountant named Rebecca Shaw.
Rebecca was forty-three, practical, sharp-eyed, and completely unimpressed by wealthy people.
She reviewed the documents from my father's metal case.
After two hours, she looked up.
“There's a pattern here.”
“What kind?”
“Several entities received money from development accounts, then transferred portions to other companies with no obvious operating purpose.”
“Could those be legitimate transactions?” Nathan asked.
“Some might be. But the circular movement of funds, inconsistent explanations, and missing supporting invoices are concerning.”
She turned toward me.
“One company appears repeatedly.”
“Which one?”
“Northbridge Capital Services.”
I frowned.
“I've never heard of it.”
Rebecca tapped the screen.
“It was formed years ago, but its ownership structure changed several times. We'll need proper records to determine who controlled it during each transaction.”
Eleanor went pale.
“Northbridge.”
We turned toward her.
“You know it?” I asked.
She nodded slowly.
“Your father mentioned that name before he died.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that if he could identify who controlled Northbridge, he'd know where the missing employee money had gone.”
Nathan immediately began taking notes.
I watched Eleanor's expression.
“Did he ever find out?”
She shook her head.
“No. But he suspected Richard wasn't acting alone.”
The room fell silent.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
I know you've been asking about my father.
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
If you want to know why I really went to work for Vincent, meet me tonight.
A third followed.
Come alone. No lawyers. No Morettis.
Then an address appeared.
A quiet coffee shop in Lincoln Park.
I showed Nathan.
He frowned.
“Absolutely not. We don't know whether this is a trap.”
“I know.”
“Then don't go.”
I looked at the message.
“Someone has spent years trying to uncover the same financial secrets my father died protecting.”
Nathan studied me for a moment.
“You think it's Sophia.”
“Yes.”
He sighed.
“Then I'll arrange for someone to be nearby. You can meet in a public place, and I'll know where you are.”
I agreed.
At seven that evening, I entered the coffee shop.
Only a handful of customers remained.
Sophia sat in a corner booth, wearing a dark sweater and jeans.
Without her designer clothes and perfect makeup, she looked younger.
Exhausted.
And frightened.
I approached slowly.
She stood.
“Claire.”
I sat opposite her.
“You wanted to talk.”
Sophia glanced toward the windows.
Then she placed a worn photograph on the table.
It showed a smiling man holding a little blonde girl.
“My father,” she whispered.
I looked at the picture.
“He was innocent, wasn't he?”
Sophia's eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you tell anyone?”
She gave a bitter smile.
“We tried. Nobody believed us.”
I waited.
She lowered her voice.
“I joined Moretti Holdings because I wanted proof that Richard destroyed my father.”
“And Vincent?”
Her expression crumpled.
“That wasn't supposed to happen.”
I looked away.
Sophia continued.
“I know what I did to you was wrong.”
“Yes,” I said quietly. “It was.”
She nodded.
“I won't ask you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
Then Sophia reached into her handbag.
She removed a small silver flash drive.
“I copied records from Richard's private archive. I thought they proved what happened to my father.”
I stared at the device.
“Why bring them to me?”
“Because I found your name.”
My heart began to race.
Sophia swallowed.
“And because I discovered Richard planned to use the mansion for something much worse than the loan.”
I leaned forward.
“What?”
She glanced toward the coffee shop entrance.
Then whispered:
“He was planning to sell the property without telling you.”
I froze.
Sophia continued.
“The sale documents were being prepared through an entity controlled by Northbridge. The proceeds were supposed to cover a major funding shortage before an independent review.”
I felt sick.
“My house?”
“Yes.”
“How could he sell something he doesn't own?”
“He was trying to make the paperwork appear as though the company controlled it.”
I stared at her.
“Then why are you telling me this now?”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“Because tomorrow morning, Richard intends to make someone else take the blame.”
“Who?”
May you like
Sophia's voice dropped.
“Vincent.”
Related Stories
