Chapter 5 - THE OTHER HALF OF THE TRUTH
My hands trembled as I read on. The ink was faded but clear. Every word burned itself into my mind.
*Arthur told you of the oath. He told you of the sacrifice. And every word of that part is true. He gave up his name, his family, his inheritance—all so we could build something together. I swore to him that we would be equal. Brothers in every way but blood. And I meant it. At the time.*
*But Arthur hid from me the most important truth of all. His family did not merely lose wealth or status. They lost everything because of crimes Arthur himself committed. He did not tell me until years later. By then… it was too late. If I honored our oath… I would be giving half of everything to a man whose past could destroy not only us… but you. My innocent, beautiful daughter.*
*So I made a second choice. I dissolved the partnership legally. Rewrote the contracts. Kept Arthur on with generous compensation and the title of advisor. I told him it was temporary. That I would restore his share once it was safe. But the truth… the truth was that I could never give him what he demanded. Not without endangering you. Not without exposing you to the enemies his family made.*
*Arthur did not understand. Or perhaps he chose not to. He saw only betrayal. Greed. Ingratitude. And so he began planning. Waiting. Biding his time until I was gone and you were young and vulnerable.*
*I kept one copy of the original agreement—the one Arthur does not possess. It contains not only our signatures… but also his own confession. Written in his own hand. Of the crimes he committed before we met. That document is the only thing that can stop him. Without it… he will claim everything. And he will believe he is justified.*
*Amelia… I hid the original agreement where Arthur would never think to search. Not in a safe. Not in a vault. But in the one place he visits every year. On the anniversary of the day we swore our oath.*
*The location is written below. Go there. Read it. And then… decide. Decide whether to give Arthur what he believes he is owed. Or decide to protect what I built for you. Whatever you choose… know that I loved Arthur. And I wished things could have been different. But above all… I loved you.*
The letter ended. Beneath it, my father had written an address and a date.
The old family chapel. At midnight. On the twentieth of the month. Three days from now.
I folded the letter carefully and placed it inside my coat. My mind reeled. Arthur had told me half the truth. He had been wronged. He had sacrificed everything. But he had also hidden a dangerous past. And my father had protected me—and the company—by keeping that past buried.
Neither man had been entirely right. Neither had been entirely wrong. And both had been too proud, too stubborn, to speak honestly to each other until it was too late.
Arthur intended to take everything by sunrise tomorrow. And he held every advantage. Unless I could delay him. Unless I could buy three days. Until the twentieth. Until midnight. Until I could retrieve the document that would decide everything.
I walked to the window. The storm was drawing closer. Rain began to streak the glass. I pulled out my phone and dialed Arthur’s number. He answered on the second ring.
"Amelia?"
"I read the letter my father left," I said. "And I understand now. Why you did what you did. Why you feel wronged."
Silence on the line. Then: "And?"
"And I am willing to listen," I said. "I am willing to negotiate. But I need time. Three days. Until the twentieth. To examine the evidence. To speak with you fully. To decide what is fair. Give me until midnight three days from now. And if we cannot reach agreement… I will walk away. Without a fight."
Arthur was quiet a long time. I held my breath. He was smart. He would suspect a trick. But he also believed he held all the cards. He would believe he had nothing to lose by waiting a few days.
"Why?" he asked. "Why would you agree to walk away?"
"Because I believe you suffered injustice," I said honestly. "And because I do not want to spend my life fighting a war my father started. I want peace. But give me those three days. Please."
Arthur breathed out slowly.
"Midnight on the twentieth. That is the anniversary of our oath. A fitting day to resolve this."
"Yes."
"Very well," Arthur said. "I will wait. But understand this, Amelia. If you betray me… if you attempt to involve the police or produce false evidence… I will not hesitate. I will dissolve this company before dawn the next morning. Do we understand each other?"
"We do," I said.
He ended the call.
I lowered the phone. Three days. I had bought three days.
May you like
I looked out at the storm sweeping toward shore. Somewhere lay a document written decades ago that held the power to ruin everything Arthur had planned. Or to ruin everything my father built.
And when midnight came on the twentieth… Arthur and I would meet at the chapel. Not as enemies or allies. But as the two people my father had loved most in all the world. To finally hear the whole truth. And to decide what to do with it.
