Chapter 3 - Hidden Ledgers
Julian sat at the dining table, meticulously sifting through the wire transfer records while Denise helped Wren color in a drawing book in the kitchen.
Julian’s brow furrowed as he cross-referenced the corporate registration number printed on the back of the wire receipts.
"I know this firm," Julian said softly, looking up at Tessa. "Vanguard Legacy Investments isn't an investment fund, Tessa. It's a private estate holding firm owned directly by Marjorie’s brother, Arthur."
Tessa blinked, trying to process his words. "Arthur? The uncle Owen never spoke about?"
"The very same," Julian replied, leaning forward. "Owen told me a few months before his accident that he suspected his mother and uncle were using family trusts to hide money from tax auditors. He told me he was looking into something heavy, but he wouldn't give me details because he wanted to keep you and Wren safe."
Tessa buried her face in her hands. The narrative she had held for the past year—that Owen died in a tragic highway accident while returning home from a routine business trip—was beginning to fracture into something far darker.
"Why would Marjorie tell me Owen owed her the money?" Tessa asked.
"Because if she convinces you that it's a personal debt, she can force you to sign over your remaining share of Owen's life insurance payout," Julian explained, his eyes flashing with quiet anger. "She knows you're vulnerable. She knows you're fighting to protect Wren."
Just then, Wren walked into the living room, holding out a small folded piece of paper toward Julian.
"Daddy’s box," Wren said softly.
Tessa looked at her daughter. "What box, sweetie?"
Wren pointed toward the hallway closet where Owen’s old leather army duffel bag had been stored since his passing. "The shiny box inside the big bag. Grandma looked at it when Mommy was at work."
Tessa’s heart stopped.
She stood up immediately and walked to the hallway closet, pulling down the heavy duffel bag. Tucked inside the bottom lining was a small, locked metal firebox that Tessa had never seen before.
May you like
The keyhole was scratched, as if someone had recently tried to pick it.
"Marjorie wasn't just coming here for money," Tessa realized, holding the cold steel box in her hands. "She was looking for this."
