The door opened before Claire could stop him.
Daniel pulled it inward only a few inches.
Michael stood outside.
He was in his early forties, dressed in a gray suit that looked as though he had slept in it. His tie was loosened, his dark hair disordered, and his expression carried the exhausted seriousness of someone who had driven through the night.
He looked directly at Daniel.
“You need to listen to me.”
Daniel stepped outside and pulled the door almost closed behind him.
Claire could still see them through the narrow glass panel.
Michael handed him a thick folder.
Daniel didn't take it.
“Why are you here?”
“Because you wouldn't answer your phone.”
“I told you not to come here.”
“You also told me the account was clean.”
Daniel's face hardened.
Michael lowered his voice.
“It isn't.”
Claire could not hear the next sentence.
But she saw Daniel's reaction.
His shoulders dropped.
He looked suddenly older.
Then Michael glanced through the glass.
Their eyes met.
Claire felt a strange chill.
Michael looked away immediately.
Daniel opened the door wider.
“Come inside.”
Michael entered.
Claire remained near the staircase.
The stranger looked at her.
“Mrs. Vale?”
“Yes.”
He hesitated.
“My name is Michael Reeves.”
“I know.”
Michael frowned.
“You know me?”
“No,” Claire said. “But my husband said your name.”
Daniel gave him a warning look.
Michael noticed the champagne glass in Claire's hand and the open luggage behind her.
His expression changed.
“You're leaving.”
Claire said nothing.
Michael looked at Daniel.
“You didn't tell her?”
“Not yet.”
“Tell me what?”
Michael closed his eyes for a moment.
Daniel took the folder from him.
“Go.”
Michael didn't move.
“Daniel—”
“Go.”
Michael looked at Claire.
“If he doesn't tell you, I will.”
Daniel's voice sharpened.
“Michael.”
The older man turned toward the door.
Before leaving, he said quietly, “The transfer was made three days ago.”
Daniel stiffened.
Claire heard every word.
“What transfer?”
Michael opened the door.
Daniel grabbed his arm.
“You promised.”
Michael looked at him.
“I promised not to tell her unless you were in danger.”
He glanced toward Claire.
“You are.”
Then he walked out.
The door closed.
Silence returned.
Claire set down her glass.
“What transfer?”
Daniel didn't answer.
“What did he mean?”
“Claire—”
“No.”
She walked toward him.
“Don't say my name like that.”
He stopped.
She pointed at the folder.
“What's inside?”
“Documents.”
“About what?”
Daniel looked at the floor.
“Money.”
Claire laughed once.
It was a small, stunned sound.
“How much?”
He remained silent.
“How much, Daniel?”
“Enough.”
Her expression changed.
“Enough for what?”
He finally looked at her.
“To ruin us.”
Claire felt the room tilt.
She sat down on the bottom stair.
For a few seconds, she simply stared at him.
“How long?”
“Six months.”
Her eyes widened.
“You've been hiding this for six months?”
“I was trying to fix it.”
“With what?”
“My own money.”
“And did it work?”
“No.”
Claire looked toward the folder.
“What's the transfer?”
Daniel sat opposite her.
“Someone moved money from a company account.”
“Your company?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
He told her.
Claire's face went pale.
“That much?”
“I didn't take it.”
She looked at him.
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
“That's convenient.”
His eyes hardened.
“You think I stole it?”
“I think I don't know what to think anymore.”
Daniel looked down at his hands.
“I discovered irregular transactions in one of our subsidiary accounts. I thought it was an accounting error. Then more payments appeared. Different companies. Different names. Same pattern.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your father was involved.”
Claire froze.
“My father?”
Daniel nodded.
Her father had died two years earlier.
His company had passed through complicated legal restructuring afterward, and Claire had deliberately stayed away from the business.
“What does my father have to do with this?”
Daniel opened the folder.
“There were accounts established before he died.”
Claire stared at the papers.
“Offshore accounts?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because your father didn't want you involved.”
She shook her head.
“My father hated secrets.”
Daniel gave her a look.
Claire understood the contradiction.
Her father had kept plenty.
Daniel pulled out a document.
“This is a transfer authorization.”
She read it.
Her eyes stopped.
The signature at the bottom was hers.
Claire stared at the page.
“That isn't my signature.”
“I know.”
“Then why is my name here?”
“Because someone forged it.”
She looked at him.
“And you knew?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Three weeks.”
Claire stood.
“You knew someone forged my signature three weeks ago, and you didn't tell me?”
“I was trying to identify who did it.”
“You were investigating?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
She walked away from him.
The marble floor felt cold beneath her heels.
“You lied to me.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You lied to me.”
“I know.”
She turned.
“Do you?”
Daniel said nothing.
Claire pointed at the luggage.
“I packed those because I thought you were having an affair.”
His expression changed.
“I never cheated on you.”
She looked at him.
“I don't know whether to believe that.”
“You should.”
“That isn't enough anymore.”
Daniel stood.
He wanted to touch her, but he knew better.
Claire crossed her arms.
“What was in the locked drawer?”
He looked at the folder.
“A list of names.”
“Which names?”
“People connected to the transfers.”
“Give it to me.”
Daniel hesitated.
“Now.”
He opened the folder.
Claire read the list.
Three names meant nothing.
The fourth did.
Her breath stopped.
“That's impossible.”
Daniel watched her.
“What?”
She pointed at the page.
“My brother.”
Her younger brother, Ethan, had died eight years earlier in a car accident.
His name was listed beside an account number.
Claire shook her head.
“He's dead.”
“I know.”
“You said these were people connected to the transfers.”
“I said the names were connected.”
She looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel turned another page.
There was a photograph.
Claire took it.
The picture showed a man standing outside a hotel.
The man's face was partly turned away.
But she knew him.
She knew the shape of his shoulders.
The scar near his ear.
The watch on his wrist.
She dropped the photograph.
“No.”
Daniel picked it up.
“Claire.”
“No.”
She backed away.
“That isn't possible.”
“Look at the date.”
She did.
Three months earlier.
Claire's knees weakened.
Ethan had died eight years ago.
She had attended his funeral.
She had watched the coffin lowered.
She had spent years learning how to live with the empty space he left behind.
And yet the photograph showed a man who looked exactly like him.
Daniel stepped toward her.
“That's why I couldn't tell you.”
Claire looked at him.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“You suspected my brother was alive?”
“I suspected someone was using his identity.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Then why did you say my father was involved?”
“Because the accounts were opened under his name.”
She wiped her cheek.
“And the man in the photograph?”
Daniel's phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
Claire saw it.
“Who is it?”
Daniel didn't answer.
The phone rang again.
Then stopped.
A message appeared.
Daniel read it.
Claire watched the blood drain from his face.
“What did they say?”
He handed her the phone.
The message contained only six words.
STOP LOOKING, OR CLAIRE DIES TONIGHT.
She stared at the screen.
The champagne flute on the table suddenly seemed absurd.
The beautiful dress.
The polished marble.
The sunlight.
Everything that had seemed luxurious now felt strangely exposed.
Claire looked at Daniel.
“You're going to tell me everything.”
“I will.”
“No more protecting me.”
“No.”
“No more decisions made for me.”
Daniel nodded.
She pointed toward the door.
“And you're locking every entrance.”
He did.
Then Claire looked down at the photograph again.
Her voice shook.
“If that's Ethan…”
Daniel waited.
“What?”
She picked up the picture.
“Then whoever has been watching us knows something about my family that neither of us understands.”
A sound came from upstairs.
Both of them froze.
It was the faint scrape of a floorboard.
Daniel looked toward the staircase.
Claire whispered, “We're not alone.”
Daniel reached for her hand.
This time she let him take it.
They stood together at the bottom of the stairs.
Another floorboard creaked.
Then a shadow moved across the hallway above them.
Click Here to continue read next: PART3: Claire Followed the Footsteps Upstairs and Found the One Thing Daniel Had Spent Months Trying to Keep Hidden
The Woman Holding Champagne Had Already Decided to Leave Before Her Husband Saw the Suitcases
Part 2 of 8
