He showed me the name.
Elaine Foster.
I didn’t recognize it.
Then he frowned.
“That’s strange.”
“What?”
He tapped the contact.
“The number is gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was an internal company number.”
“And?”
He showed me the screen.
The call appeared in his log.
But when he opened the profile, no employee record existed.
Marcus looked at me.
“That shouldn’t happen.”
The terrace door opened behind us.
Dad stood there.
His face had lost all color.
“Valerie.”
I turned.
“What?”
He was holding his phone.
For the first time that night, my father—the calmest person I knew—looked genuinely shaken.
“I just received an email.”
“From whom?”
He stared at the screen.
“I don’t know.”
Richard appeared behind him.
His expression was equally tense.
“What does it say?” I asked.
Dad looked at me.
Then he slowly turned the phone around.
There were only two lines.
The first said:
The Hart-Lowell agreement was never fully settled.
The second made my blood run cold—not because it threatened anyone, but because it raised a question none of us had even considered.
Before Valerie signs anything, ask Daniel who the third beneficiary is.
I stared at my father.
Richard stared at him too.
Marcus looked between us.
Dad said nothing.
And that silence told me the anonymous message had uncovered a secret even Richard Sterling hadn’t known.
“Dad,” I whispered.
His hand tightened around the phone.
“Who is the third beneficiary?”
He lifted his eyes to mine.
And for the first time in my life, my father looked as though he had no idea how to answer me.
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