“Marry Me and I’ll Help Raise Your Daughters” — Billionaire to Single Dad, His Daughter Said…
Chapter 4
I drove to the estate anyway.
Victoria was waiting outside her father’s old office.
The police had already arrived.
A window was broken.
Files covered the floor.
Nothing valuable had been stolen.
Except one folder.
The folder containing records from the year before Victoria’s father died.
My wife’s name.
Rachel Hayes.
I felt sick.
“Why was she in his files?”
Victoria looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
She nodded.
The police said the break-in looked professional.
No fingerprints.
No obvious entry point.
The thief knew exactly what they wanted.
My wife had worked as a financial auditor.
She had never worked for Sterling.
At least, that’s what I thought.
Victoria handed me a photograph.
Rachel was standing outside Sterling Global.
Three years before her death.
I stared.
“I’ve never seen this.”
“She came here.”
“When?”
“Eight months before she died.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
The next morning, I searched every box of Rachel’s belongings.
Her old laptop.
Her notebooks.
Her clothes.
Nothing.
Then Emma found something.
“Dad?”
“What?”
She held up a book.
“Mom’s handwriting.”
Inside the cover, Rachel had written:
For Daniel, when the girls are old enough.
My hands shook.
I opened it.
The first pages contained family memories.
Emma’s first tooth.
Sophie’s first steps.
Rachel’s favorite recipes.
Then the handwriting changed.
The tone changed.
Daniel,
If you’re reading this, someone has probably found the file.
My heart stopped.
Victoria stood beside me.
Rachel’s letter continued.
I discovered financial transfers connected to Sterling Global. I don’t believe Victoria knows.
Victoria stared at the page.
“I didn’t.”
Rachel named several shell companies.
One of them had been connected to Victoria’s father.
Another was connected to his chief financial officer.
And the final note said:
The person behind it isn’t the obvious one.
There was more.
If Victoria ever comes to you, listen to her. She has no idea what her family did.
I looked at Victoria.
She looked devastated.
“My father was involved.”
“Maybe.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Neither can I.”
She reached for my hand.
“I am not asking you to protect my family.”
She squeezed my fingers.
“I want to protect yours.”
That night, we told my daughters only that there had been a problem involving their mother’s old work.
Emma listened carefully.
Sophie drew a picture.
It showed me.
Her.
Emma.
And Victoria.
Four people holding hands.
Underneath, she’d written:
HOME
Victoria saw it.
Her eyes filled.
She turned away.
I followed.
“What happened?”
She wiped her face.
“Nothing.”
“Victoria.”
She laughed softly.
“My mother used to draw pictures like that.”
I didn’t know what to say.
She looked at me.
“I haven’t seen one in years.”
That evening, Victoria stayed at our apartment.
Not as my fiancée.
Not as the CEO.
Just as a woman who didn’t want to be alone.
After the girls went to sleep, she sat beside me.
“Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“Are you still going to marry me?”
I looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Even after this?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I thought about Rachel.
The letter.
My daughters.
Her fear.
“Because whatever your family did, it isn’t you.”
She looked at me.
“And if it is?”
“Then we’ll face it together.”
She smiled.
“That’s dangerous.”
“Probably.”
She rested her head against my shoulder.
Neither of us spoke.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
Ask Victoria what happened to her mother.
I looked at her.
She read it too.
Her face went pale.
“My mother died when I was eight.”
I looked at the message.
“Maybe someone wants you to think she did.”
