A Billionaire Heiress Walked Into My Clinic and Gave Me 3 Days to Marry Her… Then I Discovered Why
Chapter 5
The house.
Ethan knew immediately which one Grant meant.
His childhood home had been sold years ago.
But it still existed.
A small two-story house outside Worcester.
Ethan hadn’t returned since his mother died.
Charlotte drove.
Neither spoke much.
When they arrived, the house looked smaller than Ethan remembered.
The porch was crooked.
The paint was peeling.
The backyard was covered with weeds.
Ethan stood at the front door.
“I used to hate this place.”
“Why?”
“Because everything happened here.”
His father leaving for work.
His mother’s crying.
The phone call announcing the accident.
The funeral.
He opened the door.
Dust covered everything.
They searched for hours.
Nothing.
Then Ethan noticed the basement floor.
One section of concrete looked newer than the rest.
He knelt.
Charlotte handed him a flashlight.
“There.”
A faint metal outline.
Ethan grabbed a crowbar.
After twenty minutes, the concrete cracked.
Beneath it was a steel box.
Charlotte stared.
“That’s it.”
Ethan opened it.
Inside were documents.
Photographs.
A cassette recorder.
And a letter.
He unfolded it.
Ethan,
If you found this, then Charlotte must be with you.
That means the plan worked.
His hands trembled.
The letter continued.
I need you to understand something.
Alexander was never my enemy.
Richard Vale was.
But Vale is not acting alone.
Ethan looked at Charlotte.
“There are others.”
She nodded.
The letter named three people.
The company’s general counsel.
The head of security.
And a board member.
All three had helped Vale.
But the final paragraph was worse.
Your mother knew.
Ethan stopped breathing.
Charlotte touched his shoulder.
“Your mother?”
He continued reading.
She discovered the truth after my death.
If she tried to expose them, they would come for you.
So she stayed silent.
Ethan sat on the basement floor.
His mother had known.
For eighteen years.
She had carried the secret alone.
He opened another document.
It was a letter from her.
His mother’s handwriting.
My Ethan,
I’m sorry.
Your father didn’t die because of an accident.
He died because he trusted the wrong people.
But he also trusted one person completely.
Alexander Whitmore.
Ethan closed his eyes.
Charlotte sat beside him.
For the first time, she cried.
“My father knew your mother.”
Ethan nodded.
“They protected each other.”
Then the cassette recorder clicked.
They both froze.
A recording began.
Michael Carter’s voice.
“If you’re hearing this, then I’m already dead.”
Ethan stared at the recorder.
“I need you to trust Charlotte.”
A pause.
“She doesn’t know everything.”
Charlotte whispered:
“What?”
Michael continued.
“Her father left her one secret.”
The recording stopped.
Ethan pressed play again.
Nothing.
The tape had ended.
Charlotte looked terrified.
“What secret?”
“I don’t know.”
They returned to the mansion after midnight.
But the moment they entered, Ethan knew something was wrong.
The front door was unlocked.
A vase lay broken on the floor.
The security alarm had been disabled.
Charlotte whispered:
“Someone broke in.”
Ethan reached for her hand.
They moved carefully through the hallway.
The library was open.
The hidden safe was empty.
Someone had taken the flash drive.
Then Ethan heard a sound upstairs.
A door closing.
Charlotte looked at him.
“Someone’s here.”
