Chương 7
I shook my head.
"No."
Thomas nodded.
"Yes."
"I don't remember."
"Because your mother took it from you."
The room became silent.
I looked at Richard.
Then Claire.
Neither of them seemed surprised.
"You knew?"
Claire stepped closer.
"No."
Her voice was soft.
"Not this part."
I turned back to Thomas.
"What was inside?"
Thomas walked toward an old cabinet near the wall.
He opened it slowly.
Inside were dozens of files.
Photographs.
Documents.
Records.
Everything someone had spent years trying to hide.
He removed a small envelope.
"This was your father's final message."
I stared at it.
"Another letter?"
Thomas nodded.
"But this one was never meant for you to read."
"Why?"
"Because your father believed whoever controlled the box would control the truth."
I took the envelope.
My hands felt heavier than before.
Inside was a small piece of paper.
Only a few sentences.
The person who controls the foundation controls the empire.
The person who controls the empire controls the family.
Never trust someone who wants power more than they want forgiveness.
I read it twice.
"What does this mean?"
Thomas looked at me.
"Your father created a hidden foundation before his death."
"A foundation?"
"One that owned part of the company."
I frowned.
"Why would he hide ownership of his own company?"
"Because he discovered someone was trying to take control."
"Who?"
Thomas looked at the photograph.
"Your mother."
I closed my eyes.
I wanted to be angry.
I wanted to reject it.
But every piece of evidence kept pointing in the same direction.
"What was my mother trying to do?"
Thomas sat down.
"Your father built the company with one rule."
"What rule?"
"Family could never sell the company without everyone agreeing."
I understood immediately.
"If someone wanted control..."
"They needed the others gone."
The room felt colder.
"My father."
Thomas nodded.
"Your father was the first obstacle."
"And me?"
"You were the second."
I looked at him.
"Why me?"
"Because after your father's death, you inherited his voting rights."
My heart sank.
"So they could not control the company unless they controlled me."
"Exactly."
I thought about all those years.
My mother encouraging my decisions.
David standing beside me.
Everyone acting like they supported me.
But behind everything was a battle over control.
A battle I never knew existed.
"Why did my mother keep me alive?"
Thomas looked away.
"Because she loved you."
The answer shocked me.
"What?"
"Your mother did terrible things."
Thomas's voice was quiet.
"But she was still your mother."
I did not know how to feel.
Anger.
Pain.
Confusion.
All of it existed at the same time.
"She protected me?"
"From the worst part."
"What is the worst part?"
Thomas hesitated.
Then he opened another file.
Inside was a photograph.
A younger version of my mother.
Standing beside someone else.
Someone I did not recognize.
"Who is that?"
Thomas looked at me.
"Your mother's partner."
My expression changed.
"Partner?"
"Before your father."
I stared at the picture.
"My mother was married before?"
"No."
"Then who?"
Thomas placed another document beside the photograph.
A birth certificate.
My eyes moved across the page.
Then stopped.
The name on the document made my entire body freeze.
I looked at Thomas.
"This is impossible."
He did not answer.
I looked again.
The date.
The names.
Everything.
"No."
My voice became quieter.
"Tell me this is fake."
Thomas looked at me sadly.
"I wish it was."
Claire stepped closer.
"What does it say?"
I could not answer.
Because the words on the page changed everything.
Not about my company.
Not about my father.
About me.
The person listed on the document was not my biological father.
For my entire life, I had believed I was Michael Harrington.
The son of William Harrington.
The heir to a family legacy.
But the document suggested something I could barely accept.
My father had known.
My mother had known.
And Thomas had known.
Everyone knew except me.
"Who am I?" I whispered.
Thomas looked at me.
"You are still Michael."
"Do not do that."
My voice cracked.
"Do not tell me a name does not matter."
Nobody spoke.
"Everything I believed about myself came from them."
I looked at the photograph of my father.
"The man who raised me knew."
Thomas nodded.
"Yes."
"And he still called me his son."
"Because you were his son."
I looked at him.
"Then why hide it?"
Thomas's expression became painful.
"Because the truth would have gotten you killed."
I froze.
"What?"
"The person who created this entire plan was not trying to take your father's company."
Thomas stepped closer.
"They were trying to erase your bloodline."
A chill moved through me.
"Why?"
Thomas looked toward the window.
Because outside, beyond the rain, a car had stopped near the house.
Nobody noticed it arrive.
Nobody heard the door open.
But Thomas did.
His face changed.
"Because they know you found out."
The lights inside the house flickered.
Claire immediately moved closer to me.
Richard looked toward the entrance.
Thomas whispered one sentence.
"The person who destroyed your family has finally come to finish what they started."
The front door slowly opened.
And a familiar voice filled the room.
"Michael."
I turned.
My breath stopped.
Because the person standing there was someone I never expected to see again.
My mother.
I could not move.
For years, I had imagined seeing my mother again.
I imagined anger.
I imagined questions.
I imagined finally hearing the truth.
But I never imagined seeing her standing in front of me alive.
Older.
Tired.
And carrying the same sadness I remembered from my childhood.
"Michael," she said again.
My hands curled into fists.
"You are dead."
Her eyes filled with pain.
"No."
I shook my head.
"You died."
"I let people believe that."
The room felt impossibly quiet.
Claire stood beside me.
Richard moved slightly forward.
Thomas looked at my mother with a mixture of anger and disappointment.
May you like
"You should not have come here."
My mother looked at him.
