Chapter 5 - THE MAN I CALLED MY BROTHER

The room became silent.

Too silent.

I looked at Hannah.

Then at Martin.

“What are you talking about?”

Hannah’s breathing became faster.

“Dad…”

She shook her head.

“You can’t trust him.”

Martin stepped back.

“That’s not fair.”

Hannah stared at him.

“Isn’t it?”

I stood between them.

“Someone start explaining.”

Neither spoke.

Then Hannah looked at me.

“Dad, Martin helped Florence create those documents.”

My chest tightened.

“No.”

The answer came automatically.

Because some truths are too painful to accept.

Not because they are unbelievable.

Because they are believable.

Martin looked down.

“Hannah…”

“Tell him.”

She pointed at him.

“Tell him how you accessed his files.”

I looked at Martin.

“Is that true?”

He didn’t answer.

And suddenly thirty years of friendship felt like a stranger standing in front of me.

“Martin.”

His shoulders dropped.

“Yes.”

One word.

That was all it took.

The person I trusted most had just admitted betraying me.

“Why?”

His eyes filled with regret.

“I thought I was protecting the company.”

I almost laughed.

“By stealing from me?”

“No.”

“By helping someone manipulate my family?”

“No.”

His voice cracked.

“I was trying to stop it.”

Hannah looked confused.

“What?”

Martin took out his phone.

“I found out Florence was using me.”

He showed us messages.

Hundreds of them.

Emails.

Documents.

Requests.

Florence had been asking him about my accounts.

My properties.

My inheritance plans.

But Martin had never told me.

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

He looked ashamed.

“Because I thought I could handle it.”

That sentence angered me more than anything.

“You thought you could handle someone destroying my life?”

“I was wrong.”

“Yes.”

My voice became colder.

“You were.”

---

Hannah slowly stood.

“Dad, there’s more.”

I looked at her.

“What more?”

She reached into her bag.

She pulled out another folder.

“I found this in Florence’s office.”

Inside were printed emails.

The first one had a date.

Six months before my wedding.

The sender:

Florence.

The receiver:

A lawyer.

The subject:

FINAL TRANSFER PLAN.

I read the first line.

My hands started shaking.

“After the marriage ceremony, Jonathan Prescott’s assets will become easier to access.”

I stopped.

I couldn’t read anymore.

Hannah took the paper.

“She wasn’t marrying you because she loved you.”

The words hurt.

Even though I already knew.

“She was marrying you because of what you owned.”

I looked away.

Sixty-four years old.

A successful businessman.

A man who had built everything from nothing.

And I had almost handed it away because someone smiled at me.

---

A noise came from outside.

We all froze.

Footsteps.

Someone was approaching.

Martin whispered:

“Someone followed us.”

The door handle moved.

Slowly.

Once.

Twice.

Then a voice came from the other side.

“Jonathan?”

Florence.

My blood turned cold.

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