PART 3
My father glanced at Eleanor.
She whispered something to him.
He ignored her.
Finally, he said, “Mr. Bennett.”
I smiled.
“Which Mr. Bennett?”
His face changed.
“Chloe.”
“There are several Bennetts in Chicago.”
“The owner.”
“That’s not a name.”
Richard’s jaw tightened.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“No. I know what you’re pretending to talk about.”
Gabriel suddenly stepped forward.
“Dad, just tell her.”
Richard shot him a look.
Gabriel stopped.
I folded my hands on the table.
“You don’t know the owner’s name.”
My father stood abruptly.
“Of course I do.”
“Then say it.”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
I waited.
Five seconds.
Ten.
My mother finally snapped.
“Why are you interrogating your own father?”
“Because he came into my hotel and threatened to have me removed by someone he claims to know.”
I looked at Richard.
“If that person exists, he deserves to know exactly what you’re trying to do with his name.”
Richard’s face hardened.
“You think you’re clever.”
“No.”
I smiled faintly.
“I think you’re bluffing.”
That word hit him harder than I expected.
He stepped closer.
“You should be careful.”
“With what?”
“Your attitude.”
“I’m not the one threatening people.”
He pointed toward me.
“I can make one call.”
“Then make it.”
His hand tightened around the phone.
“Fine.”
He unlocked the screen.
My mother smiled again.
There it was.
The moment they had been waiting for.
My father searched through his contacts.
His thumb hovered.
Then stopped.
I watched him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Call him.”
He looked at me.
“Not here.”
I almost laughed.
“You came into my hotel to threaten me, but now you’re uncomfortable making the call in front of me?”
“It’s a private conversation.”
“Then go ahead.”
He walked toward the door.
I let him.
He reached for the handle.
“Dad.”
He stopped.
“Before you leave, one thing.”
He looked over his shoulder.
“If you’re going to threaten someone using another person’s name, make sure that person actually knows you.”
His face turned red.
Then he walked out.
Eleanor followed him.
Gabriel stayed behind.
Martha remained seated.
For a moment, the room was strangely quiet.
Gabriel looked at me.
“You’ve changed.”
“So have you.”
“You think you’re better than us now.”
“No.”
“Then why are you treating us like this?”
I stared at him.
“Because you came here asking for more than a million dollars after seven years of silence.”
His eyes dropped.
“You could help me.”
“I could.”
“Then why won’t you?”
“Because helping you isn’t the same as financing you.”
He swallowed.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
He looked toward the closed door.
“My project is already in motion.”
“What project?”
“The apartment development.”
“Who are your partners?”
He hesitated.
“Does it matter?”
“It matters if you’re asking me for $1.1 million.”
He sighed.
“I have investors.”
“Names?”
“I can’t tell you everything.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s complicated.”
I nodded slowly.
“That’s what I thought.”
Gabriel’s expression softened.
“Chloe, I know I wasn’t there when Dad kicked you out.”
“No. You weren’t.”
“I was nineteen.”
“You were old enough to know what was happening.”
He looked away.
“I was scared.”
That sentence surprised me.
I had spent seven years believing he simply didn’t care.
Maybe I had been wrong.
But being afraid didn’t erase what he had done.
“You could have come outside.”
“I know.”
“You could have called.”
“I know.”
“You could have asked where I was.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked.
“I know.”
For the first time, I saw something in his face that looked like regret.
But regret was not the same thing as accountability.
“What happened after I left?” I asked.
He frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“Why didn’t anyone contact me?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“Dad said you wanted nothing to do with us.”
I stared at him.
“I told Dad I needed space.”
“He said you had chosen to leave.”
“And you believed him?”
“I was nineteen.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I was.”
I nodded.
“Fine.”
He rubbed his face.
“But there’s something else.”
I waited.
Gabriel lowered his voice.
“Dad didn’t tell you everything.”
My heart stopped for half a second.
“What does that mean?”
He glanced at the door.
“I shouldn’t say this.”
“Then don’t.”
He looked at me again.
“But you deserve to know.”
I remained silent.
He took a breath.
“The day you left, Dad didn’t just tell us not to contact you.”
“What did he do?”
“He told everyone you had stolen money.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“He said Grandma’s money had disappeared.”
I stared at him.
“That money was legally mine.”
“I know.”
“Then why would he say I stole it?”
“He said you took it without permission.”
“That was my inheritance.”
“I know.”
I pushed my chair back slightly.
“How much did he tell people I stole?”
Gabriel hesitated.
“About six hundred thousand.”
My breath caught.
“That wasn’t even close to what Grandma left me.”
“I know.”
“Who did he tell?”
“Relatives. Some of his business contacts.”
“Anyone else?”
Gabriel looked down.
“Your old college.”
I felt something cold move through my chest.
“He contacted my college?”
“He said you had financial misconduct issues.”
I stood.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he try to stop me from getting my degree?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
The door opened.
Richard walked back in.
His face was different.
Not angry.
Worried.
He looked at Gabriel.
“What did you tell her?”
Gabriel froze.
“Nothing.”
Richard’s eyes moved between us.
Then he saw my expression.
“You told her.”
“What did you tell her?” I asked.
Richard ignored me.
“Gabriel.”
“I only told her the truth.”
My father stepped toward him.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then explain it.”
“Stay out of this.”
“No.”
Gabriel stood.
“You dragged me here. You told me Chloe would give us the money because she’s your daughter.”
Richard’s face hardened.
“And?”
“And you lied to me too.”
My mother entered behind him.
“What’s going on?”
Gabriel turned toward her.
“Dad told everyone Chloe stole Grandma’s money.”
Eleanor went silent.
I watched her carefully.
She did not look surprised.
That was enough.
“You knew,” I whispered.
My mother looked at me.
“It’s not what you think.”
“You knew.”
“We were trying to protect the family.”
“From what?”
She didn’t answer.
“From me?”
“No.”
“Then from what?”
Richard slammed his palm against the table.
“This is enough.”
“No,” I said.
“It is.”
“No, Dad.”
I had not called him that with anger in years.
“I’ve spent seven years wondering why you hated me so much.”
He stared at me.
“Now I’m beginning to understand.”
My mother shook her head.
“You always make everything about yourself.”
“Because you made me the villain.”
“You refused to help your family.”
“I refused to give you Grandma’s money.”
“You could have saved your father’s company.”
“No.”
My voice became quieter.
“You wanted my inheritance to cover debts you created.”
Richard’s face went pale.
“That wasn’t the whole story.”
“Then tell me the whole story.”
He didn’t.
Instead, he said:
“You don’t know what your grandmother intended.”
I froze.
“What?”
My mother immediately looked at him.
“Richard.”
He realized he had said too much.
