Chapter 15 A Reasonable Explanation
Sloane
I didn't sleep much after we returned from the mansion. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my grandmother’s sharp, frantic handwriting and that thick red circle around the date of the gala.
By the time the sun started to bleed through the curtains, I had made my decision. I couldn't just sit in this house and theorize with Cade. If there were irregularities during the Spring Galas, there was only one person who would have been responsible for explaining them. Richard had overseen operations for every major event that year. If something didn’t add up, it would have crossed his desk first.
"You can't go," Cade said. He was standing by the window of the kitchen, his coffee untouched. "If he’s involved, Sloane, you’re just giving him a head start. You’re handing him the chance to erase whatever tracks we haven't found yet."
I gripped my mug, feeling the warmth seep into my palms. I wasn't acting on a whim. I had thought about this through every hour of the dark night. "It’s not a mistake, Cade. If he's not, showing him these records gives him a chance to explain them."
"And if he is involved?" Cade asked, his voice dropping an octave.
"Then how he reacts will tell me everything," I replied firmly. "I’m not going in there with accusations. I’m going in as a confused niece. If something is wrong, I’ll feel it."
"If you're going with your grandmother's file and he's involved. Don't you think he'll immediately suspect you're investigating him?"
"I won't take her copies. I'll make do with copies of the ones I had saved on my laptop a week ago. Just something enough to find out if he knows too"
Cade paced the small length of the kitchen, his frustration rolling off him in waves. He didn't know that I was doing this for him, too. I wanted to prove to him that my family wasn't involved with monsters like he thought they were. I wanted to find a way back to the version of the world where I could trust my own blood.
"I can’t stop you," Cade said, stopping in front of me. "But I can't say I like it."
"I know," I said. "That’s why I’m going alone."
I pulled out my phone before I could lose my nerve. I dialed Richard’s private office line. He picked up on the third ring.
"Sloane? Is everything all right?, his voice was warm, full of that familiar, deep comfort.
"Hi, Uncle Richard. I'm okay. I’ve just been meaning to talk to you. It’s... a bit personal."
There was a brief pause on the line. "Of course, sweetheart. I'm always here for you. Why don't you come by the hotel at noon? We can talk in my office."
Walking through the lobby of the hotel felt different today. Usually, I felt a sense of pride seeing the Hartford name etched into the marble. Today, it felt like the walls were closing in.
I was carrying a slim envelope with a few photocopies of standard financial summaries and vendor line items I needed to understand. Nothing marked. Nothing annotated. Just questions on paper.
Richard’s assistant buzzed me in immediately. When I walked into the corner office, Richard was standing by the window, looking out at the city. He turned and his face lit up with a brilliant, genuine smile. He walked over and pulled me into a firm hug, the scent of his expensive cologne reminding me of every holiday and birthday I’d ever celebrated with him.
"Sloane. It’s so good to see you," he said, holding me at arm’s length. “How are you holding up since the funeral and the will”.
I took a breath. This was the first hurdle. "Actually, Uncle, that’s part of the reason I wanted to see you. I wanted to tell you personally. I’ve moved into Cade’s wing. I’ve agreed to marry him."
Richard froze for a second, his hands still on my shoulders. Then, his smile widened, though it felt a fraction slower than before. "Truly? That is... sudden, Sloane."
"It’s what Grandmother wanted," I said, keeping my voice soft, almost a little sad. "It was in the will, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had to bring myself to do it. If this is what she believed would make her happy and protect the company, I have to try. I’m doing it for her."
Richard exhaled, a sound of genuine relief. "Sloane, you have no idea how much weight that takes off my shoulders. To see you honoring her wishes... It's the best news I’ve heard since the funeral. You’re a good girl. A true Hartford."
He led me over to the leather armchairs near his desk. He seemed relaxed, happy, and completely at ease. He asked about the wedding plans and mentioned how much Grandmother would have loved to see me in the family veil. For a few minutes, I felt the tension in my shoulders begin to melt. This was the man who had taught me how to read my first contract. This was my family.
“So Uncle, seeing as I’ll soon start heading the hotel business, there are a few documents with things I couldn’t really make sense of and I was wondering if you could help.”
"Okay, what did you find that made you so worried?", he asked, his voice dripping with sympathy.
I took a deep breath and pulled the copies from the envelope. I laid them out on the coffee table between us. I watched his eyes. He put on his reading glasses and leaned forward, his expression shifting into a mask of professional interest.
“I came across a few old financial summaries while helping organize Grandmother’s personal paperwork..” I explained, keeping my voice steady and a little bit uncertain. “ I noticed some payments from a couple of years ago that don't seem to match our usual vendors. Especially around the time of the Spring Galas."
I pointed to a specific payment to a private security firm (the one I knew Grandmother had underlined in red in the original). "The rates are nearly triple what we usually pay."
Richard studied the paper. He didn't look up for a long time. He turned the page, his fingers steady, looking at the papers. Then, he looked up at me and gave a small, weary sigh.
"Ah, Sloane. I remember this” He leaned back, removed his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We were hosting some very high-profile international guests during those galas. People who require a level of discretion that our standard security teams just can't provide. We had to hire external specialists, and yes, they are incredibly expensive. Silence costs more than safety, I’m afraid."
He sounded so logical. He spoke with the confidence of a man who had explained these things to board members a thousand times.
"I understand the cost of discretion," I said, tilting my head. "But I saw some referenced access logs during the peak of the events. I wondered if it was just security."
Richard didn't blink. He didn't shift in his seat. He just gave me a small, indulgent smile. "Late nights are chaotic during a gala, Sloane. We had operational issues, things like plumbing, catering delays, you name it. I personally managed the back-of-house to ensure the guests never saw the cracks in the armor. It was a mess, but it was just business.."
He reached out and patted my hand. His skin was warm. "You're a consultant, sweetheart. You know how these things go. Sometimes the paperwork doesn't reflect the reality of a crisis."
For a second, I almost believed him. He looked so much like the man I had always loved. But then, as he continued to explain away the costs, I noticed something that made my stomach turn cold.