THE WOMAN MY GROOM WAS KISSING

I read Ethan's message three times.

*Don't go to Eleanor's office alone. Marcus knows she's still alive. And he's already on his way there.*

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Dad reached for his phone.

"David, call Eleanor. Tell her not to open the door to anyone.""

David was already dialing.

I looked at Brielle.

"Did Marcus know about the meeting?""

She shook her head.

"I never told him.""

"Did you tell anyone else?""

"No.""

Dad ended his call and looked at us.

"Eleanor isn't answering.""

My stomach tightened.

"Maybe she's busy.""

"Maybe," he said, but his expression suggested he didn't believe it.

David tried again.

This time, someone answered.

A man's voice came through the speaker.

"Ms. Whitmore's office.""

David frowned.

"Who is this?""

"Her assistant.""

"This is David Harris. I need to speak with Eleanor immediately.""

"She's unavailable.""

"Tell her it's about the Bennett trust.""

There was a pause.

Then the man said, "I'm sorry. Ms. Whitmore has asked that all meetings be canceled.""

David looked at me.

"When did she say that?""

"This morning.""

Dad stepped closer.

"Who are you?""

The assistant hesitated.

"Daniel.""

"Daniel what?""

The line went dead.

David stared at his phone.

"That wasn't normal.""

I grabbed my purse.

"We're going there.""

Dad shook his head.

"Not without the police.""

I agreed.

Within twenty minutes, an officer was on the phone with us. We explained Ethan's warning, the suspicious cancellation, and the possibility that someone had accessed the original trust records.

The officer advised us not to confront anyone.

But when we arrived at Eleanor's office with David and a police investigator, the reception area was empty.

The front door was unlocked.

A desk lamp was still on.

And a cup of coffee sat untouched beside a stack of folders.

"Eleanor?"" David called.

No answer.

We moved down the hallway.

Her office door stood open.

Papers covered the floor.

A filing cabinet had been forced open.

And on the desk lay a framed photograph of my grandfather.

The glass was cracked.

I picked it up.

Someone had written across the back in black marker:

*SOME SECRETS SHOULD STAY BURIED.*

Brielle covered her mouth.

The investigator immediately called for backup.

David examined the open cabinet.

"These are the original trust files.""

He pulled out a folder.

"Some are missing.""

I looked around.

"Where's Eleanor?""

A faint noise came from behind the office door.

We all froze.

The investigator moved toward it.

"Police. Is anyone inside?""

A woman's voice answered.

"Please don't let him come back.""

David rushed forward.

The investigator opened the door.

Eleanor Whitmore sat on the floor behind a filing cabinet. Her white hair was disheveled, and one sleeve of her blouse was torn.

She looked frightened.

But she was alive.

I dropped to my knees beside her.

"Eleanor?""

She stared at me.

"Nia Bennett?""

"Yes. Are you hurt?""

She shook her head.

"Not badly.""

The investigator called for medical assistance.

Dad crouched beside her.

"Who did this?""

Eleanor looked at him.

Then her eyes moved toward the broken photograph.

"Marcus Reed.""

My chest tightened.

"He was here?""

She nodded.

"He wanted the original trust documents.""

"Did he take them?""

"Some.""

David asked, "Which ones?""

Eleanor closed her eyes.

"The amendment records. The old authorization forms. And the letter your grandfather left in my custody.""

I felt my throat tighten.

"The letter I read yesterday?""

"No. Another letter.""

She reached for my hand.

"Your grandfather left two.""

I stared at her.

"Why didn't you tell us?""

"Because the second letter contained instructions that could only be revealed if someone attempted to alter the trust fraudulently.""

David leaned closer.

"Did Marcus know about it?""

Eleanor nodded.

"He knew enough to be afraid of it.""

The investigator asked her to describe what had happened.

Eleanor explained that Marcus had arrived alone, claiming he represented the family and needed to review the trust records. When she refused, he became aggressive.

"He told me the family had already agreed to the changes," she said.

"He said I was interfering with a private matter.""

"And you refused?"" I asked.

"I told him your grandfather's instructions were clear.""

Her voice trembled.

"Then he asked me whether I remembered Patricia.""

Dad looked up.

"What about Patricia?""

Eleanor stared at him.

"Your wife came to see me six months ago. She didn't come alone.""

My stomach dropped.

"Who was with her?""

Eleanor hesitated.

"Someone from your father's office.""

Dad frowned.

"That doesn't make sense.""

"An employee," she clarified.

"Someone who had access to the family business records.""

David asked, "Do you remember the name?""

Eleanor nodded.

"Daniel Cross.""

The name meant nothing to me.

But Dad went completely still.

"Daniel was my financial director.""

"Was?"" I asked.

Dad looked at me.

"He left the company four months ago.""

Eleanor continued.

"He gave Patricia copies of the trust documents. He also helped Marcus obtain the account information used in the fraudulent transfers.""

Dad stood.

"Daniel was handling the company's books. He had access to everything.""

I felt sick.

"So Marcus didn't just manipulate Mom. He had someone inside Dad's company.""

Eleanor nodded.

"Your grandfather suspected this possibility. That's why he left the second letter.""

She reached into a small compartment beneath her desk and pulled out a sealed envelope.

It had survived the break-in.

My grandfather's handwriting was unmistakable.

"Where was this?"" I whispered.

"Hidden behind the original trust register. Marcus didn't find it.""

Eleanor handed it to me.

The envelope had my name on it.

I opened it carefully.

Inside was a short letter and a list of instructions.

The first sentence made my blood run cold.

If this letter is being opened, then someone has attempted to use my estate to control my granddaughters.

I continued reading.

I do not believe either girl should inherit a burden disguised as a gift. The family property must remain protected until both are old enough to understand its history.

Then I reached the final paragraph.

The person who can confirm the original ownership records is not Patricia, Robert, or Marcus. It is the person who has maintained the property ledger since the beginning.

Below the paragraph was a name.

Daniel Cross.

I looked at Dad.

"Eleanor said he helped Mom.""

Dad nodded slowly.

"Then we need to find him.""

The investigator took a photograph of the letter.

"We'll handle locating him.""

But before he could finish, Eleanor grabbed my wrist.

"There's something else.""

I leaned closer.

"Tell me.""

She looked directly into my eyes.

"Marcus didn't come here only to steal the trust documents. He came because he knows the original ledger contains proof that the property was never entirely owned by your father.""

Dad frowned.

"What are you saying?""

Eleanor looked at him.

"Your father transferred a portion of the family property into a separate holding company years ago.""

Dad shook his head.

"That's impossible. I never approved that.""

Eleanor's voice dropped.

"Your signature appears on the transfer.""

The investigator exchanged a glance with David.

I looked at Dad.

For the first time since the wedding, he seemed genuinely afraid.

Then his phone rang.