Chapter 5: The Woman Who Knew Too Much
The first threat came three days after I ended my engagement.
It wasn’t a phone call.
It wasn’t a warning.
It was a message delivered in silence.
I found it taped to the front door of the King estate at six in the morning.
No name.
No signature.
Just three words written in black ink.
*LET IT GO.*
I stared at those words for a long time.
Most people would have been afraid.
Maybe I should have been.
But fear wasn’t the first thing I felt.
Anger was.
Because those three words reminded me of everything my father lost.
His life.
His peace.
His chance to see his children grow older.
And for years, whoever did that believed they got away with it.
They believed they could erase a man like Malcolm King.
They were wrong.
“Mr. King?””
I turned.
Jasmine stood behind me, holding a tray of coffee.
She saw the paper in my hand.
Her face changed immediately.
“What is that?””
“Someone wants me to stop.””
She walked closer.
“Are you going to?””
I looked at her.
“No.””
She nodded.
“I didn’t think so.””
That was one of the reasons I trusted Jasmine.
She didn’t ask questions she already knew the answer to.
She knew my father.
She knew me.
And she knew the difference between anger and purpose.
Later that morning, Rebecca arrived with more information.
She placed a thick folder on my desk.
“We found another account connected to Victor Laurent.””
I opened it.
Inside were bank records, company transfers, and names I recognized.
People who had worked with my father.
People who had smiled at his funeral.
My stomach turned.
“How many people were involved?””
“We don’t know yet.””
Rebecca sat down.
“But this goes beyond Victor.””
I looked up.
“What do you mean?””
“Someone inside King Holdings helped move information.””
That hurt.
More than I expected.
Because enemies outside the family were easy to understand.
But betrayal from within?
That was different.
“Who?””
Rebecca looked at the file.
“We’re still investigating.””
I closed the folder.
“I need to know.””
“You will.””
She paused.
“But Damon, you need to be careful.””
I leaned back.
“Because they might come after me?””
“No.””
She looked at me seriously.
“Because you might start acting like your father.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
“Your father carried everything alone.””
Her voice softened.
“He trusted too few people. He thought protecting everyone meant never letting anyone help him.””
I looked away.
Because she was right.
That was the hardest thing about losing my father.
I had spent years trying to become the man he was.
I never realized some parts of him almost destroyed him.
That afternoon, I went to the new animal shelter construction site.
The old garage had already been cleared out.
The broken shelves were gone.
The cracked floor was being repaired.
The place that once held a secret was becoming something beautiful.
Major sat nearby watching workers move around.
He was getting stronger every day.
His coat looked healthier.
His eyes were brighter.
But sometimes I caught him staring toward the house.
Like he was remembering my father.
I understood that feeling.
Some memories never leave.
They just become quieter.
“Mr. King?””
A woman’s voice interrupted me.
I turned.
A young woman stood near the gate.
She looked nervous.
Maybe early thirties.
Short natural curls.
A worn denim jacket.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said.
“Can I help you?””
She looked at Major.
Then back at me.
“My name is Elena Brooks.””
The name meant nothing at first.
Then she continued.
“My father worked for your father.””
Everything inside me became alert.
“Doing what?””
She swallowed.
“Security.””
I stared at her.
“My father was one of Malcolm King’s security supervisors.””
“Was?””
“He died six months after your father.””
I didn’t remember that.
Rebecca would have.
“What does that have to do with me?””
Elena looked around.
Then lowered her voice.
“Your father wasn’t just investigating Victor Laurent.””
I stepped closer.
“What else was he investigating?””
“My father told me something before he died.””
The wind moved through the trees.
“He said Malcolm King discovered someone close to him was helping the Laurents.””
My heart tightened.
“Who?””
“I don’t know.””
She looked frustrated.
“My father didn’t trust phones. He kept notes.””
“Where are those notes?””
She looked down.
“Someone broke into my apartment last night.””
A chill moved through me.
“They were looking for them.””
“Did they find them?””
She looked at me.
“No.””
A pause.
“I brought them here.””
I stared at her.
“You brought evidence to my house?””
“I didn’t know where else to go.””
That sentence stayed with me.
Because I understood what it meant.
She was scared.
But she came anyway.
Just like Jasmine walked into that garage.
Just like Major kept fighting.
Sometimes courage wasn’t loud.
Sometimes it was just showing up when you had every reason not to.
“Bring me the notes,” I said.
Elena nodded.
“But Damon…”
I stopped.
She looked at me carefully.
“If my father was right, whoever did this has been watching your family for years.””
I looked back at the house.
At the place where my father raised us.
At the place where enemies had entered without permission.
“I know.””
She hesitated.
“They won’t stop.””
I looked at Major.
The dog who survived because he refused to give up.
May you like
Then I looked at Elena.
“Neither will I.””
