Chapter 29 The Big Secret Drops
The week after the press conference passed in a strange, suspended kind of peace.The media ate up their “honest love story.” The internet dubbed them “the realest fake couple ever.” Sales at Hayes & Daughter Bakery tripled, people wanting to support the “brave girl who married for love and survival.” The Frost Industries stock actually went up.
They’d accidentally won by telling the truth.
But Ariella couldn’t shake the feeling that they were living on borrowed time.
It started with small things. Marcus getting tense whenever Richard’s name came up. Jennifer looking worried when she thought no one was watching. The way staff members would stop talking when Ariella entered a room, conversations dying mid-sentence.
Something was wrong.
And no one would tell her what.
On Thursday morning, exactly one week after the announcement, Ariella woke up in the chair by Aiden’s window, again their routine now, though they’d stopped pretending it was just about nightmares and found him already awake, staring at his phone with an expression she couldn’t read.
“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.
“Nothing. Maybe nothing. I don’t know.” He turned the phone toward her. “Marcus sent me this. It’s from my dad’s email. From six years ago.”
The email was from Catherine Frost to Richard, dated March 15, 2019. Two months before her death.
Richard—
I found something. In the Q2 financial reports. Money moving through shell companies, buried so deep I almost missed it. Someone’s been embezzling from Frost Industries for years. Millions. Maybe more.
I have names. Evidence. But the more I dig, the more dangerous this feels. I think James Winters is involved. I think he’s been stealing from us since before we even knew who he was.
I’m going to confront him. Tuesday. At the office.
If something happens to me, you need to know: it wasn’t an accident.
I love you. Tell the kids I love them.
—C
Ariella read it twice. Three times. Her hands were shaking.
“She knew,” she whispered. “Your mom knew Winters was stealing. She was going to confront him.”
“And five days after she sent this email, she died in a car accident.” Aiden’s voice was hollow. “A drunk driver, they said. Random. Tragic. But what if it wasn’t?”
“Aiden…”
“My father had this. For six years, he had this email. Knew what she’d found. Knew she was going after Winters. And he never told me. Never told anyone.” His hands were shaking now too. “What if Winters killed her? What if the drunk driver was paid off or threatened or…”
“We don’t know that. We can’t jump to…”
“Why else would my father hide this?” Aiden stood abruptly, pacing. “Unless he knew. Unless he’s been protecting Winters for some reason. Unless…”
A knock on the door interrupted him.
“Aiden? Ariella?” Marcus’s voice, tense. “We need to talk. Now.”
They met in Richard’s study, the same room where this whole nightmare had begun. But Richard wasn’t there. Just Marcus, looking older than his twenty-five years, surrounded by file boxes and legal documents.
“Sit down,” Marcus said.
“I don’t want to sit down,” Aiden said. “I want you to tell me why my father hid evidence that my mother was murdered.”
Marcus’s face went carefully blank. “How did you…”
“You sent me the email. Why? Why now?”
“Because your father is dying faster than the doctors predicted. Days, not weeks. And before he goes, there are things you need to know. Things he should have told you years ago.” Marcus pulled out a file, thick with documents. “Your mother wasn’t killed by a random drunk driver. She was murdered. And your father has known since the day it happened.”
The room tilted.
Ariella reached for Aiden’s hand automatically. He gripped it so hard it hurt.
“Tell me everything,” Aiden’s voice was deadly quiet.
Marcus took a breath. “Your mother discovered that James Winters had been embezzling from Frost Industries since 2015. Small amounts at first, then increasingly bold. By 2019, he’d stolen over forty million dollars through shell companies and falsified contracts.”
“Forty million,” Ariella repeated.
“Catherine was going to expose him. She had evidence, witnesses, everything she needed to destroy him legally. But two days before her scheduled meeting with the FBI…” Marcus paused. “Her car was run off the road. The ‘drunk driver’ who hit her was found dead of a drug overdose three days later. Conveniently unable to testify.”
“Jesus Christ,” Aiden whispered.
“Your father hired private investigators. They found proof, phone records, money transfers, witness statements. Winters had ordered the hit. Paid someone to make it look like an accident. Paid the driver. Then eliminated the driver to cover his tracks.”
“And my father did nothing?” Aiden’s voice was rising. “He knew Winters murdered my mother and he just…what? Let him walk free?”
“He couldn’t prove it in court. Not without exposing your mother’s investigation. Not without putting you and Lily in danger.” Marcus pulled out another document. “Winters made it clear if Richard went to the police, if he tried to prosecute, you and Lily would be next. So your father made a choice. He buried the evidence. Paid off people who knew too much. And spent the next six years building a case he could actually win.”
“The hostile takeover,” Ariella said, pieces clicking together. “That’s not really about the company, is it?”
“No. It’s about revenge. Richard’s been manipulating the board, moving pieces, setting Winters up to think he’s winning. But the plan was always to destroy him. Legally. Completely. To take everything he has and expose him for what he is.” Marcus looked at Aiden. “Your marriage to Ariella? Part of that plan. The bylaws clause gives you control of the company before Winters can seize it. Then you have the power to audit everything, to expose the embezzlement, to bring criminal charges.”
“I’m a weapon,” Aiden said numbly. “Against the man who killed my mother.”
“You’re your father’s final move. His last chance to get justice for Catherine before he dies.”