Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Buried Her Own SonDaniel hadn't spoken to his mother in nearly a year.
Eleanor Whitmore lived in a twenty-room estate in Palm Beach, Florida, surrounded by palms, private nurses she didn't need and staff trained never to contradict her.
At seventy-one, Eleanor remained an intimidating woman.
She had survived breast cancer, two hostile takeover attempts against the family company, her husband's infidelity, the death of one grandson and supposedly the death of her oldest son.
Daniel had always believed tragedy had hardened her.
Now he wondered whether hardness had caused the tragedy.
He called her from the vault.
“Daniel?”
“Michael is alive.”
Silence.
Not a gasp.
Not disbelief.
Just silence.
Daniel closed his eyes.
“You knew.”
Eleanor finally said, “Where are you?”
“You knew.”
“Daniel—”
“For six years?”
“I can explain.”
He laughed once, without humor.
“Everybody can explain tonight.”
“Come to Florida.”
“I'm not going anywhere until you tell me why Michael says you ordered Rebecca's death.”
The silence changed.
This time it was heavier.
“That is not a conversation to have by telephone.”
“My brother thinks you murdered his wife and child.”
“I did not murder anyone.”
“Then why does he believe you did?”
“Because your brother spent years listening to people who wanted to turn him against this family.”
“Did you know he was alive?”
“Yes.”
The admission cut deeper than Daniel expected.
“At his funeral?”
“Yes.”
“You watched me carry his coffin.”
“I watched you carry an empty coffin.”
“You held me while I cried.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From Michael?”
“From the reason he disappeared.”
Daniel looked through the glass wall at Marcus.
“I'm coming to Florida.”
“No.”
“That's not a request.”
Eleanor's voice sharpened.
“Then don't bring the boy.”
Daniel froze.
“How do you know about Eli?”
Another silence.
Daniel whispered, “You know him too?”
“I know of him.”
“Have you met him?”
“No.”
“Does Vanessa know who he is?”
“Daniel, leave Vanessa out of this until you understand what you're dealing with.”
He almost shouted.
“She was caught dragging an unconscious woman across my floor.”
“Maria Collins is alive?”
The question came too quickly.
Daniel noticed.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I haven't spoken to Maria in years.”
“Yet somehow you know she matters.”
Eleanor sighed.
“Come alone.”
“Why?”
“Because if Michael has finally surfaced, then six years of careful silence are collapsing at once.”
Daniel hung up.
He did not go alone.
Marcus accompanied him.
Eli remained under the protection of six security officers at an apartment Daniel secretly owned in Manhattan.
Vanessa was still being questioned.
Before Daniel boarded his jet, he checked on Maria.
She had been moved to a private room.
Her injuries weren't life-threatening.
But when Daniel told her he was going to see Eleanor, Maria grabbed his sleeve.
“Do not tell her where Eli is.”
“Why?”
“Because Michael never trusted her.”
“Apparently Michael didn't trust anybody.”
“He trusted you.”
“He hid from me for six years.”
“He trusted you enough to stay away.”
Daniel hated that answer.
They landed in Palm Beach shortly before evening.
Eleanor awaited him in the library.
She wore cream silk and pearls, as if Daniel had arrived for Thanksgiving.
“Sit.”
“I'll stand.”
Her eyes shifted toward Marcus.
“This is family business.”
“Marcus stays.”
“Very well.”
Daniel placed the photograph of Vanessa driving Charles's SUV on the desk.
Eleanor looked at it.
No surprise.
“You've seen this?”
“Yes.”
“Was Vanessa responsible for Rebecca's crash?”
“No.”
“She's driving Dad's car.”
“She was following them.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked her to.”
Daniel stared.
“You knew Vanessa eight years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Who is she?”
“Her real name is Vanessa Moretti.”
“Moretti?”
Eleanor nodded.
The name meant something.
Dominic Moretti had served as chief financial officer of Whitmore Holdings for eighteen years before dying unexpectedly of a heart attack.
“Dominic's daughter?”
“Yes.”
Daniel sat despite himself.
“Why did she change her name?”
“To separate herself from her father.”
“Why was she following Rebecca?”
“Because Rebecca had stolen records from your father's office.”
“Records proving the offshore theft?”
“Records proving far worse.”
Eleanor walked toward the fireplace.
“Your father spent decades building Whitmore Holdings. By the end, the company was worth billions, but he had debts hidden everywhere. Bad investments. Private loans. Illegal payments.”
“And you knew?”
“Eventually.”
“Michael found out.”
“Yes.”
“Rebecca too.”
“Yes.”
“So you had Vanessa follow her.”
“To retrieve documents.”
“And then Rebecca's car went off a cliff.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“I did not order that.”
“Who did?”
“Dominic Moretti.”
Daniel stared.
“Vanessa's father?”
“He believed Rebecca intended to expose everything.”
“Everything meaning what?”
Eleanor returned to her desk.
From a locked drawer, she removed an envelope.
Inside was a birth certificate.
Daniel read the name.
Michael Alexander Whitmore.
Then the father's line.
It did not say Charles Whitmore.
Daniel looked up.
Eleanor's face was expressionless.
“Michael wasn't Dad's son.”
“No.”
“Who was his father?”
“Dominic.”
Daniel almost dropped the paper.
Vanessa's father.
Meaning—
He looked at Eleanor.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Daniel stood.
“Vanessa is Michael's half sister?”
“Yes.”
The room became impossibly quiet.
“That explains why she knew him.”
“It explains some of it.”
“Did Michael know?”
“Not until shortly before Rebecca died.”
“And Vanessa?”
“Not then.”
Daniel paced.
“Dominic killed Rebecca because she knew?”
“Rebecca discovered that Dominic had been laundering money through your father's company. She also discovered Michael's paternity. She intended to convince Michael to expose both men.”
“And Dominic killed her.”
“I believe he ordered it.”
“Believe?”
“I have never found definitive proof.”
“Michael thinks you did.”
“Because Dominic deliberately left evidence pointing toward me.”
Daniel remembered the SUV.
“You asked Vanessa to follow Rebecca.”
“Yes. Vanessa was twenty-two and worked as a private investigator's assistant. She didn't know the Whitmore connection.”
“Did she force Rebecca off the road?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Vanessa's vehicle was behind Rebecca. Another SUV appeared later.”
Daniel frowned.
“The footage shows one.”
“You saw edited footage.”
Daniel looked at Marcus.
Eleanor continued.
“Michael found the full recording. That's what started everything.”
“Where is it?”
“I don't know.”
“Why did Michael fake his death?”
“Because after Rebecca died, Dominic realized Michael had evidence.”
“But Dominic died nine years ago.”
“Officially.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
“No.”
Eleanor's expression told him before she spoke.
“Your father helped Dominic disappear.”
Daniel stared.
“Another fake death?”
“A heart attack aboard a yacht. Closed coffin. Quick cremation.”
The similarity was sickening.
“Why?”
“Because Dominic knew enough to destroy Charles too.”
“So Dad protected him?”
“They protected each other.”
Daniel felt decades of family history rearranging themselves.
“Where is Dominic now?”
“I don't know.”
“Michael does?”
“Possibly.”
“Vanessa?”
Eleanor hesitated.
Daniel caught it.
“She knows.”
“She learned the truth about Dominic three years ago.”
“And Michael?”
“Eventually.”
“Then why was she dating me?”
“I've asked myself the same question.”
Daniel pulled out his phone.
Six missed calls from Vanessa.
One message.
Please don't believe Michael until you hear what he did.
Another message arrived.
Eli isn't Michael's only child.
Daniel stared at the screen.
Eleanor noticed.
“What?”
He showed her.
For the first time that evening, his mother's composure cracked.
“What does she mean?”
Daniel called Vanessa.
She answered instantly.
“Daniel.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Where are you?”
“Answer me.”
“Michael had another child after Eli.”
“With whom?”
Vanessa said nothing.
Daniel's blood ran cold.
“Vanessa.”
Her voice broke.
“With me.”
Daniel couldn't speak.
Eleanor whispered, “Dear God.”
Vanessa continued.
“She was born five years ago.”
“Where is she?”
A shaky breath.
“That's the reason Michael came back.”
Daniel gripped the phone.
“Where is the child?”
“She was taken from me three days after she was born.”
“By whom?”
“My father.”
Daniel looked at Eleanor.
Vanessa whispered:
“Dominic Moretti is alive.”
A crash sounded through the phone.
Vanessa gasped.
“Vanessa?”
Footsteps.
Then a man's voice came over the line.
Older.
Calm.
“Daniel Whitmore.”
Daniel went still.
“Who is this?”
The man laughed softly.
“Ask your mother.”
Eleanor's face emptied.
Daniel whispered:
“Dominic?”
“Good.”
“What do you want?”
“What I've wanted for six years.”
“What?”
May you like
“Your brother.”
The line disconnected.
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