Chapter 43 When the Past Strikes Back
DAVID
I got a call from my grandfather, summoning me to his mansion. The last thing I wanted was another lecture, and his timing was suspicious. What could he want now? Was this about Roy?
As I arrived, I caught sight of Mr. Roy leaving, shaking hands with my grandfather before driving off in his black luxury car. My jaw tightened. Of course, Roy would be here.
“Grandpa!” I called out as he began walking toward the house.
He turned, leaning heavily on his cane. “David, you’re here.” His voice carried the weight of years, but there was something sharper in his tone today.
I fell into step beside him as he ambled toward the house. “I assume you just saw Mr. Roy leave,” he said, glancing at me.
“Yes, I did,” I replied cautiously, studying his face for clues.
“Roy was your father’s closest friend,” he said, pausing to look at me as if weighing his next words. “But lately, someone has been causing him trouble. His company is on the verge of bankruptcy, and his family is in shambles.”
My heart thumped, but I kept my expression neutral. So he didn’t know I was the one pulling the strings. Relief flickered through me, but it was short-lived.
“I know your brother took Lizzy from you,” he continued, his gaze piercing. “But I’ve always believed that girl wasn’t right for you. Bella, on the other hand she’s good for you. I like her.”
A small smile escaped me. At least he saw reason in one area.
“But David,” he said, halting abruptly and turning to face me, “Roy needs help. I want you to step in and find out who’s doing this to him.”
My stomach twisted. Did he know? His tone was calm, but his words felt loaded.
I held his hand, meeting his gaze. “Grandpa, do you know what Roy has done?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “David, I don’t want to know. I suspect you’re involved, but I’ll say this you’re just like your father. If you want to deal with Roy, do it, but don’t destroy him completely.”
His words hit me harder than I expected. Just like my father. The mention of him after all these years sent a pang through me.
As my grandfather walked away, leaving me in the garden, I lit a cigarette to clear my head. Memories of my father flooded back, unbidden and sharp. It had been twenty years since he passed, but today, it felt like no time at all.
My phone buzzed, breaking my thoughts. Mom.
“Hello?” I said, answering.
“You mustn’t help Roy,” her voice trembled, fear threading through every syllable.
“Mom?” My pulse quickened. She was never like this always composed, always strong.
“Don’t you dare help him, David,” she repeated, her voice firmer now.
I frowned, the cigarette burning between my fingers. “How do you know about this?”
“I have my ways,” she snapped. Of course, she did. My mother had eyes and ears in every corner of my grandfather’s world.
“Why don’t you want me to help him?” I asked, though I had no intention of doing so. Her reaction told me there was more to this than she was letting on.
There was silence on the line for a moment. Then, her voice broke. “Because he killed your father.”
Her words hit like a thunderclap. I froze, the cigarette slipping from my fingers. “What?”
“You heard me,” she said, her tone raw and trembling. “Roy killed your father. He’s no friend he’s the reason your father is dead.”
The garden around me blurred, my vision narrowing to the ground at my feet. Roy, my father’s closest friend, a murderer? I clenched the phone so tightly I thought it might crack, anger seeping through every pore of my body.
The flowers in the garden swayed in the wind, their vibrant colors mocking the storm brewing inside me. “Are you sure?” I whispered.
“I’m certain, David,” she said, her voice steady now. “Don’t let him get away with it.”
As the call ended, I stood motionless, staring into the distance. My father’s death had always been a scar, but now it felt like a fresh wound, bleeding anger and vengeance.
If what Mom said was true, Roy would regret ever crossing my family.