Chapter 6 - THE SECOND WILL
6
That evening, I did something that went against every instinct I had.
I returned to a hotel instead of my home.
The girls were safe.
Hector doubled security.
Marisol knew enough to remain cautious.
And if I appeared suddenly, Chloe and Martin would know the trap had closed.
I needed them to keep moving.
Daniel met us in a private suite.
He carried two laptops and a banker’s box.
“I found the original trust documents,” he said.
“Original?”
“Before Elena died.”
I stared at him.
“I thought I knew all of them.”
“You knew the family trust. Elena had another.”
He placed a folder in front of me.
THE ELENA VANCE CHILDREN’S PROTECTIVE TRUST.
Created four days before her death.
Beneficiaries: Valeria Vance and Sofia Vance.
Trustee upon Elena’s death: Alexander Vance.
Successor trustee: Daniel Price.
Assets initially funded: one dollar.
I frowned.
“One dollar?”
“It was never funded.”
“Then why create it?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Because she intended to move something into it.”
“What?”
“That’s what we don’t know.”
He showed me an unsigned schedule of assets.
Several lines were blank.
One had handwriting.
Evidence and related intellectual property.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel shook his head.
“It could mean documents, patents, shares, recordings—almost anything.”
Then he pulled out another paper.
“This was filed with a private attorney, not our firm.”
“Why?”
“She may not have trusted anyone connected to Vance Global.”
That included Daniel.
And maybe me.
The thought hurt.
Daniel continued.
“There’s something else. Elena drafted a second will.”
My eyes lifted.
“I never saw another will.”
“It was never executed.”
He turned the document around.
Most provisions matched the will we already knew.
Except one paragraph.
If my death occurs under suspicious circumstances, I direct my husband Alexander to investigate any connection involving Claire Bennett, Nathan Bennett, Martin Shaw, or St. Augustine Recovery Center.
I read the sentence three times.
Martin.
Named explicitly.
Three years ago.
Before Chloe entered my life.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“Why wasn’t this given to me?”
“It wasn’t signed.”
“But someone had it.”
“A retired attorney named Samuel Crowe.”
“Where is he?”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“He died eighteen months ago.”
“Natural causes?”
“Apparently.”
I almost laughed.
Nothing felt natural anymore.
“His office?”
“Closed.”
“Files?”
“Transferred to storage.”
“Find them.”
Daniel nodded.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Chloe.
Missing you. Girls are being difficult today. Marisol keeps undermining me. We really need to talk when you get home.
Attached was a photograph.
Sofia asleep on a sofa.
My daughter’s face looked peaceful.
The image was designed to reassure me.
Instead, it felt like a threat.
I called Hector.
“Put eyes on both girls.”
“Already done.”
“Where’s Chloe?”
“In the master suite.”
“Martin?”
“At home, according to his driver.”
“According to his driver isn’t good enough.”
“I agree.”
We spent the next hours reviewing Elena’s voice recorder.
Most recordings were mundane.
Dates.
Times.
License plates.
Names.
Then we found one labeled TWO DAYS BEFORE.
Elena’s voice filled the room.
If anything happens to me, this is what I know.
Claire Bennett contacted me today from an unknown number.
She said I ruined her brother’s career.
She told me Nathan only accessed Alexander’s schedules because Martin Shaw instructed him to.
I contacted Martin.
He denied it.
But he knew about details I never told him.
She paused.
Her breathing sounded unsteady.
Then:
I think Martin is stealing from the company.
I looked at Daniel.
He went pale.
The recording continued.
Nathan may have discovered it.
Claire may be helping him.
Or threatening him.
I don’t know anymore.
There are too many lies.
But I found transfers from Vance Global subsidiaries to vendors that do not appear to exist.
If Martin is using Claire and Nathan to hide financial crimes, Alexander is in danger.
There was another pause.
And maybe the girls are too.
The recording ended.
Daniel stood abruptly.
“We need forensic accountants.”
“Hector?”
“Already calling one.”
For the next six hours, a small confidential team examined archived Vance Global transactions.
At 2:10 a.m., they found the first confirmed fraud.
A construction consulting company in Nevada had received $3.7 million over five years.
No employees.
No physical office.
The owner was a trust linked to Martin Shaw.
Then another.
And another.
By dawn, preliminary losses exceeded forty million dollars.
Martin had not merely betrayed me.
He had been stealing from my company for more than a decade.
Elena discovered him.
Nathan Bennett apparently had access to the systems Martin used.
Claire had access to Elena’s private medical information.
Together, they had all been positioned around my wife before she died.
But one question remained.
Who had done what?
At 6:30 a.m., Hector entered.
“We found Nathan.”
I looked up.
“Where?”
“Arizona.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
That surprised me.
“What is he doing?”
“Owns a small auto repair shop outside Flagstaff under the name Nathan Brooks.”
“Can we reach him?”
Hector hesitated.
“We already did.”
“And?”
“He said he’ll talk.”
Relief moved through me.
Then Hector finished the sentence.
“But only to you.”
“Fine.”
“He has one condition.”
“What?”
“You bring Marisol.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“He says she has something that belongs to him.”
The bank key.
I knew instantly.
Nathan knew about the second key.
Which meant Elena had somehow involved him too.
We arranged to meet in a private location.
Before leaving Los Angeles, I video-called my daughters.
They thought I was in Toronto.
Sofia grinned when she saw me.
Valeria did not.
She watched my background.
Then she said, “Daddy, why is your hotel lamp the same as the hotel near your office?”
My daughter had inherited her mother’s eyes for detail.
I smiled weakly.
“Coincidence.”
Valeria stared at me.
Then, very softly:
“You’re coming home, aren’t you?”
I realized she knew.
Maybe she had known from the first moment.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
Her eyes filled.
“Before she does something worse?”
My heart broke.
“Valeria.”
She lowered her voice so Chloe, somewhere outside the room, would not hear.
“Daddy, there’s something I didn’t tell Marisol.”
“What?”
She looked toward the door.
Then back at me.
“I heard Chloe talking to Uncle Martin last week.”
Uncle Martin.
That was what my daughters called him.
“What did they say?”
“They were fighting.”
“About what?”
Valeria swallowed.
“She said, ‘I did what you wanted three years ago. I’m not hurting another child for you.’”
Everything inside me stopped.
“Another child?”
“Yes.”
Then Valeria whispered:
“Daddy, what happened three years ago?”
I looked at my daughter.
May you like
And suddenly understood the possibility I had been too terrified to consider.
Maybe Elena had never been the only intended victim.
