Merchant’s Son Humiliated an Apprentice — But Her Father Owned the Trading House
Chapter 4
By noon, Samuel had left.
Anna remained in the office with her father.
“You should resign,” Samuel had told her before leaving.
Anna had refused.
“Why?”
“Because I need to know the truth.”
Samuel had looked at her for a long moment.
Then he had whispered:
“Your grandfather died believing Jonathan Hawthorne betrayed him.”
Anna returned to the counting room.
The atmosphere had changed.
Everyone seemed to know something had happened.
Elias sat at his desk.
When Anna passed him, he said:
“So you’re a Whitmore.”
She stopped.
“You knew?”
“I know now.”
He leaned back.
“My father told me.”
Anna waited.
Elias smiled without warmth.
“Do you know what your family did?”
“No.”
“Your grandfather accused my father of theft.”
“Was he guilty?”
Elias stood.
“You really believe that?”
“I believe evidence matters.”
He stepped closer.
“You’ve been here three weeks, and already you’re digging through private records.”
“I found an accounting error.”
“You found something you weren’t supposed to find.”
Anna’s eyes narrowed.
“Did you know about the false warehouse?”
Elias said nothing.
That silence was enough.
Anna understood.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“You hesitated.”
“I was surprised.”
“Why?”
Elias looked toward the door.
Then lowered his voice.
“Because there are things in this company you don’t understand.”
“Then explain them.”
He laughed.
“You think because you found one mistake you’re suddenly important?”
“No.”
Anna picked up the ledger.
“I think someone is stealing.”
Elias’s face hardened.
“Be careful.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s advice.”
He walked away.
That evening, Anna remained behind.
She returned to the old ledger.
Page after page contained strange payments.
Small amounts at first.
Then larger ones.
All leading to the same initials:
J.H.
Jonathan Hawthorne.
But Anna noticed something else.
Every suspicious payment had been authorized on days when Jonathan had been away from Greyhaven.
Someone had forged his signature.
Someone inside the company was using his name.
She turned another page.
A loose sheet fell onto the floor.
Anna picked it up.
On it was a single sentence:
The original account book is beneath the old customs warehouse.
Anna stared at the words.
Then she heard the door lock.
She looked up.
The counting room was empty.
Someone had locked her inside.
