Chapter 3: The Lie My Father Left Behind
“Give me my phone,” Brooke demanded.
I held it above the table.
“Tell me who sent that message.”
“You have no right to question me after deceiving everyone with that wheelchair.”
“I was recovering from surgery.
My doctor cleared me to stand three weeks ago.”
Chad moved beside Brooke.
“So this whole evening was a trap?”
“It became one when documents disappeared from my safe.”
Brooke’s fingers tightened around her empty glass.
“Your father’s documents belong to the company, not to you.”
The ballroom went still again.
I stepped closer.
“How did you know what was in that envelope?”
“I helped your father organize his estate.”
“No,” I said.
“His attorney did.”
Chad grabbed my wrist.
“Put the phone down, Graham.”
The room seemed to tilt when he used my name that way—not as my cousin, but as a man giving an order.
I pulled free.
“Daniel, lock the ballroom doors.”
The waiter who had carried the tablet hesitated.
Then he hurried to the entrance and turned the brass key.
Brooke stared at him.
“You’ll lose your job for this.”
Daniel faced her.
“Mr.
Graham owns the hotel.”
“Not for much longer,” Chad said.
Isabella bent down and lifted the damaged tablet.
A crack ran across the screen, but the photograph remained visible.
“There’s a tear near the hem of the dress,” she said.
“Brooke’s dress has the same tear.”
Brooke covered the side of her skirt with one hand.
“You caught it on my service cart,” Isabella continued.
“That was when my staff card disappeared.”
“You’re a banquet attendant,” Brooke said.
“Do you honestly think anyone here will believe you over me?”
“I do,” I said.
Brooke laughed, but no one joined her.
I touched the message on her phone.
It had come from a number saved under one letter: C.
“Is that Chad?” I asked.
“It could be anyone.”
“Then unlock the phone.”
“No.”
Chad took one step toward Daniel.
“Open those doors.”
Daniel stayed where he was.
“Not until Mr.
Graham says so.”
Brooke’s voice softened.
“Graham, your accident has made you suspicious.
Sit down before you embarrass yourself further.”
“My accident didn’t change the combination to my safe.”
Her expression shifted for half a second.
I saw it.
Isabella saw it too.
“What was in the envelope?” Isabella asked me.
“My father’s original trust papers.”
Chad’s face tightened.
I continued.
“They name me as controlling owner of the hotel group.
Someone filed a different version after he was gone.”
Brooke folded her arms.
“Perhaps your father changed his mind.”
“Then why take the original?”
“Because it proved something you weren’t ready to hear,” she said.
“What?”
She leaned close enough for only the nearest guests to hear.
“Your father knew you caused the accident that put you in that chair.”
My knees weakened.
Isabella caught my arm before I fell against the table.
“That isn’t true,” I said.
“Isn’t it?” Brooke whispered.
“Ask Chad who your father called the night before he didn’t survive.”
I looked at my cousin.
Chad slowly reached into his jacket and placed a folded document on the table.
May you like
“Uncle Edmund called me,” he said.
“And he told me he was taking the company away from you.”
