Chapter 3 - My Sister Finally Asked Who I Was
I arrived at Vanessa’s apartment forty minutes later.
The black car was gone.
Vanessa opened the door before I knocked.
She looked nothing like the polished woman from her New Year’s photos.
No makeup.
Hair twisted into a loose knot.
One sleeve of her cashmere sweater was inside out.
“You came.”
“You called.”
Her eyes dropped.
“I wasn’t sure you would.”
That hurt.
But I didn’t answer.
“Where’s Tyler?”
“Bedroom.”
“Is he okay?”
“I don’t know.”
I walked inside.
Their apartment had been decorated to look expensive rather than comfortable.
White sofa nobody sat on.
Glass tables without fingerprints.
Abstract paintings chosen by an interior designer Tyler repeatedly told everyone was “international.”
A bottle of champagne from the previous night remained half-empty on the counter.
Beside it sat the photograph they had posted online.
NEW YEAR, NEW FAMILY.
I turned it facedown.
Vanessa noticed.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at her.
“For what part?”
Her eyes filled.
“Morgan.”
“No, seriously.”
“I didn’t know Mom was going to phrase it like that.”
“So you did know.”
She closed her eyes.
I suddenly felt very tired.
“Why?”
“Tyler didn’t want you there.”
“That part I understood.”
“He said you judged him.”
“I barely spoke.”
“That was the problem.”
I stared.
Vanessa rubbed her hands together.
“He said you looked at him like you knew something.”
Apparently I had.
“What am I supposed to say to that?”
“I don’t know.”
She sank onto the sofa.
“He said you made him feel stupid.”
“He spent Christmas dinner teaching me my own industry.”
“I know.”
I stopped.
“You know?”
She nodded.
“I knew you worked for Falcon Ridge.”
My anger vanished.
Replaced by disbelief.
“How?”
“You paid for my apartment after college from a Falcon Ridge account.”
“That was eight years ago.”
“I searched your name.”
I stared at her.
“You knew?”
“Not everything.”
“How much?”
“That you were promoted. That you were an executive.”
“And you never told Mom?”
“You asked me not to tell them you paid my deposit.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
She looked away.
Finally, the truth came.
“Because Tyler liked being the successful one.”
I felt something inside me break very quietly.
“You let him humiliate me because it made him comfortable?”
“No.”
“You let Mom exclude me.”
“I thought you wouldn’t care!”
The words exploded from her.
Then silence.
Vanessa covered her mouth.
My voice came out much softer.
“Why would you think I wouldn’t care?”
She started crying.
“You never need anybody.”
There it was.
The accusation I had heard in different forms my entire life.
Independent meant cold.
Competent meant unfeeling.
Quiet meant indifferent.
Because I solved my own problems, everyone assumed I didn’t have emotions.
“I needed a sister,” I said.
Vanessa’s face crumpled.
Before she could answer, the bedroom door opened.
Tyler emerged.
He had changed clothes.
Gray sweatpants.
White shirt.
No shoes.
He looked years older.
When he saw me, anger flared.
“What are you doing here?”
“Vanessa called me.”
He looked at her.
“You called her?”
“She knows finance.”
“She’s the reason we’re in this mess.”
“No,” I said.
Tyler pointed at me.
“Get out.”
Vanessa stood.
“Stop.”
“Vanessa—”
“No.”
Her voice shook.
“You don’t get to do this anymore.”
Tyler stared.
“What does that mean?”
“It means tell me what’s happening.”
“Nothing is happening.”
“I saw those men.”
“What men?”
“The car.”
His face froze.
Then recovered.
“I don’t know anything about a car.”
I stepped closer.
“Who did you borrow money from?”
He looked at me.
Vanessa went still.
“What?”
“His company’s cash position doesn’t make sense.”
I watched Tyler.
“You had to bridge the losses somehow.”
“I borrowed legally.”
“From whom?”
“Private investors.”
“Names.”
“No.”
“Tyler.”
“Get out.”
Vanessa looked between us.
“How much?”
He didn’t answer.
“How much?” she repeated.
Tyler rubbed his jaw.
“Five million.”
Vanessa gasped.
My stomach tightened.
“Secured by what?”
“Nothing.”
“Five million unsecured?”
He laughed bitterly.
“Not exactly.”
I knew before he said it.
“Personal guarantee?”
He looked at Vanessa.
Then away.
“What did you guarantee?”
Silence.
Vanessa stepped toward him.
“What did you guarantee?”
“Our apartment.”
Her face went blank.
“This apartment?”
“And the vacation property.”
“My name is on the vacation property.”
“I handled the paperwork.”
Vanessa turned white.
“You signed for me?”
Tyler immediately shook his head.
“No. You signed.”
“I never signed a loan.”
“You signed a stack of refinancing documents.”
“You told me those were insurance forms.”
The room changed.
Not dramatically.
No thunder.
No shattered glass.
Just the sudden understanding that a marriage might have been built on paperwork one spouse never read because she trusted the other.
I looked at Tyler.
“You misrepresented financial documents to your wife?”
“I didn’t misrepresent anything.”
Vanessa whispered, “You told me they were insurance forms.”
“I simplified it.”
She actually laughed.
One broken sound.
“You simplified losing my home?”
Tyler’s voice hardened.
“It was temporary.”
“How long ago?”
“Four months.”
Vanessa looked at me.
Four months.
They had been married six weeks.
Meaning he had used her property before the wedding.
“Who are the lenders?” I asked.
Tyler shook his head.
“I’m not telling you.”
“Then Falcon Ridge freezes every payment to Kane Urban pending investigation.”
His face twisted.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I already instructed accounting to hold disputed invoices.”
He stepped toward me.
“You think you’re powerful because you sit in some glass office?”
“No.”
I held his gaze.
“I think documentation is powerful.”
His phone rang.
Everyone looked down.
Unknown caller.
Tyler declined it.
The phone rang again.
He declined.
Again.
Vanessa whispered, “Answer it.”
“No.”
“Answer it!”
Tyler finally picked up.
“What?”
A voice spoke on the other end.
Too quiet for us to hear.
Tyler’s face lost all color.
Then the caller said something else.
Tyler looked directly at me.
His eyes widened.
“What do you mean she opened the file?”
My blood turned cold.
Whoever was calling him knew about Falcon Ridge’s internal review.
And they knew I had seen it.
Tyler slowly lowered the phone.
“Morgan.”
“What?”
His voice was barely audible.
“You need to leave.”
“Why?”
The answer came from my own phone.
A text from an unknown number.
One sentence.
STOP REVIEWING KANE URBAN OR YOUR FAMILY WILL PAY FOR IT.
I looked at Vanessa.
Then Tyler.
And for the first time, I understood why he had been afraid.
He wasn’t hiding simple debt.
May you like
He was hiding people.
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