Chapter 3 - THE FATHER THEY BURIED TWICE
David Carter had been thirty-eight when he died.
He worked as a financial controller for a warehouse division owned by the Brooks family.
He was meticulous.
Honest.
And stubborn enough to challenge people who earned ten times his salary.
Mia remembered him coming home late with ink stains on his fingers and a tired smile.
She remembered him teaching her multiplication at the kitchen table.
She remembered the way he kissed her forehead before leaving for work.
And she remembered the night he never came home.
The warehouse fire had started shortly after midnight.
Investigators concluded that faulty electrical equipment was responsible.
David's body was recovered from an office near the loading dock.
Days later, newspapers reported that he had been under investigation for financial misconduct.
Millions of dollars were missing.
The implication was clear.
David had stolen the money.
Then died before anyone could question him.
Mia's mother spent years fighting to clear his name.
She wrote letters.
Requested records.
Contacted attorneys.
But the Brooks family had lawyers, investigators, and influence.
The Carters had overdue bills.
Eventually, Mia's mother became ill.
She died when Mia was twenty-two.
Mia had been carrying the weight of both losses ever since.
Ethan listened without interrupting.
They sat in a small interview room at the police station.
The steak had been collected for laboratory analysis.
The transfer sheets had been copied and preserved.
Gavin Pike had left the restaurant before officers arrived.
Investigators were trying to locate him.
Mia stared at Ethan.
“Your father called mine a criminal.”
Ethan looked down.
“I know.”
“Did you believe him?”
Ethan hesitated.
“Yes.”
The answer hurt.
But he refused to lie.
Mia's eyes filled.
“Then why should I trust you now?”
Ethan looked at her.
“You shouldn't. Not yet.”
She gave a bitter laugh.
“That's the first honest thing anyone from your family has said to me.”
That evening, Ethan returned to his penthouse.
He walked into his father's old study.
The room had remained untouched since Charles Brooks died three years earlier.
Ethan opened a locked cabinet.
Inside were financial records, personal letters, and old contracts.
At the bottom lay a sealed envelope.
On the front, in his father's handwriting, were three words.
DAVID CARTER — PRIVATE.
May you like
Ethan stared at it.
Then broke the seal.
