Chapter 2 - My Granddaughter Is Home
Sebastian ordered the lobby cleared.
Not asked.
Ordered.
Within two minutes, champagne glasses disappeared, phones went into pockets, and guests who had paid thousands to attend Founders’ Night were being guided toward the ballroom.
Margaret stayed.
“So does she,” Sebastian said.
He pointed at me.
The insult was so casual I almost admired it.
Sebastian did not.
“Charlotte is exactly where she belongs.”
Margaret folded her arms.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know my daughter’s child.”
“You haven’t seen Clara in twenty-seven years.”
The words hit me before they hit him.
Twenty-seven years.
My age was twenty-nine.
I looked at Sebastian.
“You knew my mother.”
He flinched.
“I was her father.”
I laughed once because my body did not know what else to do.
“My mother told me her father was dead.”
Margaret said, “Interesting.”
Sebastian’s voice hardened.
“Enough.”
Nathan led us into a private lounge behind the lobby. Dark wood. Old photographs. A fire burning behind glass even though it was too warm for one.
I remained standing.
Sebastian sat slowly.
“Your mother left this family when you were two.”
“She said we had no family.”
“She was angry.”
“She was poor.”
His face tightened.
I kept going.
“She cleaned dental offices at night. She waited tables. She lost our apartment twice. If she had a billionaire father, why did she live like that?”
Margaret answered before he could.
“Because Clara stole from him.”
I turned.
She seemed almost relieved to say it.
“Twenty-seven years ago,” Margaret continued, “your mother moved eight point four million dollars out of a Valle employee fund and disappeared.”
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
Sebastian closed his eyes.
“Margaret.”
“She deserves the truth.”
“That is not the truth.”
“Then tell her why Clara’s name is on the transfer.”
I looked at Sebastian.
He did not answer fast enough.
I reached for my coat.
“I shouldn’t have come.”
“Charlotte.”
“No.”
My voice shook now.
“I buried my mother six weeks ago. I found out today that she had a father. Ten minutes later I’m being told she was a thief.”
Sebastian stood.
“She was not a thief.”
“Then what was she?”
He looked at Margaret.
Margaret stared back.
Something old passed between them.
Fear, maybe.
Or agreement.
Sebastian said, “Someone made her look like one.”
Silence.
Nathan picked up the brown envelope from the table where I had placed it.
“May I?”
I nodded.
Inside were twelve letters.
All addressed to Sebastian Valle.
All unopened.
All returned.
I had seen them before but never read them. My mother kept them tied with kitchen string in the back of her closet.
Nathan turned one over.
“There’s an internal routing stamp.”
Sebastian took it.
His face changed.
“What?” I asked.
“This letter reached my office.”
Margaret moved toward him.
“Let me see.”
Sebastian pulled it away.
The stamp was faded, but beneath it were three handwritten initials.
A.V.O.
Sebastian whispered, “Andrew Vale’s Office.”
I knew the name.
Andrew Valle was Sebastian’s only son.
Margaret’s husband.
My uncle.
The man every business article said would inherit the company.
Sebastian looked at Margaret.
“You told me Clara never wrote.”
Margaret’s face did not move.
Then the lounge door opened.
A man in a wheelchair entered.
Andrew Valle looked at me and said:
“She wrote because she was blackmailing us.”
---
The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.
May you like
If you enjoyed the story, bookmark my site: https://vibe.treeiq.biz
New stories are posted daily, so check back for updates.
