Chapter 7

Jack arrived at the gates at 2:30 PM in his car. The expansive grounds, well-kept lawns, and a meandering driveway surrounded by oak trees were all visible as they slowly opened. The Monroe estate's facade was made of stone and its powerful, even threatening, columns. a home designed to flaunt its wealth and authority.

Jack looked at me with an inscrutable face from the front seat. He spoke carefully, "You'll be meeting both Ethan and Katherine today. Just be ready. Katherine can be challenging at times."

As the vehicle stopped in front of the main entrance, I made myself inhale deeply.

The overwhelming richness of the space struck me as soon as we entered the foyer. The walls were covered in pricey artwork, including sculptures and oil paintings that undoubtedly cost far more than I could ever conceive. The flooring was polished marble. An enormous crystal chandelier that hung over the area gave it a cozy, golden warmth. The estate exuded money, power, and control in every way.

Silently, Jack beckoned me to follow him as he led me to a pair of doors at the far end of the corridor. Jack pushed them wide, and they softly swung open to reveal an opulent sitting area.

And there was Katherine Monroe, perched on one of the velvet couches.

She was poised, graceful, and completely unapproachable, just as I had envisioned. Her platinum-blonde hair was expertly groomed, with not a single strand misplaced. A modest yet opulent black dress fit her perfectly, and a string of pearls hung down from her collarbone. She observed us go into the room with a tight posture and a calculating, chilly gaze.

With his back to us, Ethan stood by the window, gazing out at the vast surroundings. He didn't look back when we got inside.

"Mrs. Monroe," Jack uttered in a formal yet courteous tone. "This is Emily Clark."

Katherine gave me a cold look as her eyes darted to mine. She looked at me for a long time, seemingly evaluating my worth, before saying anything. At last, she uttered a sharp yet smooth voice.

"You're the one who's created all of this controversy, then."

I felt the weight of her stare as I swallowed. "I didn't intend to..."

"You did not intend to?" She cut herself in, her tone brimming with conceit. "You didn't mean to show up out of the blue and claim a portion of my husband's fortune?"

I started to reply, but the words became stuck in my throat. With her thinly veiled hatred, Katherine's presence was oppressive. Her eyes were staring right into my face.

With a harsh glare, she stated bluntly, "You don't belong here. Whatever relationship you believed you had with Henry is false. This world is not yours."

I could feel the hatred in her voice, and it made me feel uncomfortable. Then with a softer voice than planned, I managed to say, "I'm not here to cause trouble. All I want is answers."

Katherine, obviously disappointed, arched an eyebrow. "Answers? Do you want clarifications? You won't find any answers here. Even though Henry may have made some dubious choices, that doesn't give you the right to anything."

I tried not to get angry and tightened my hands at my sides. I added, a little more firmly this time, "I didn't ask for any of this. But I should know why your husband included me in his will,"

Katherine narrowed her eyes, and I had a fleeting fear that she would lash out once more. Rather, she rose carefully, smoothing the fabric of her garment with purposeful accuracy.

"Ms. Clark, you're playing with fire," she remarked icily. "And you will burn yourself if you are not careful."

I had to resist the impulse to back away after hearing her comments since they sent shivers down my spine. I realized this wasn't only about money because of something dark and almost menacing in her tone. There was a deeper dynamic at work that I was not yet aware of.

Katherine took a stride toward me, her eyes never taking off. Her voice was low and enigmatic as she said, "Henry left you more than just money. And you'll find yourself caught up in something far more dangerous than you realize if you don't leave now."

With a pounding heart, I gazed at her. More than just money? What the hell was she saying?

Katherine pivoted and headed for the door, creating a reverberating sound in the room as she went, all before I could inquire. As she walked away, her presence continued to linger like a threatening shadow without turning around.

At last, Ethan spoke something in a low, irate voice. "She's not wrong, you know. You're not welcome here."

I turned to look at him, my annoyance exploding. "Ethan, I didn't ask to be here. All I'm doing is attempting to ascertain why your father left me anything. Do you not also desire answers?

Ethan's eyes were tight and his mouth clinched. "Your pursuit of something is the only explanation I require. And I will ascertain what it is."

He stormed out of the room, leaving Jack and me standing there by ourselves. I felt as though my chest was sinking under the weight of Katherine's remarks. This was bigger than I had thought, whatever it was.

Back at the Hotel

The quiet room echoed with the faint click of my hotel door closing behind me. The city outside was teeming with activity at just after 8 PM, but inside everything was dead silent. Too still. My head reeling from the day's events, I let my bag fall to the floor and collapsed upon the bed's edge.

I kept hearing Katherine's remarks in my brain. "Henry didn't just leave you money." By that, what had she meant? And why had she been so... menacing, so cryptic?

I needed answers, but I wasn't going to get them at least not quite yet, from the Monroes. I had to begin investigating my own past if I was to discover why Henry had included me in his will. into the past of my mother.

I took out my laptop, ready to solve this puzzle by finding something, anything at all. I began looking for ancient documents, anything that might be related to Henry Monroe, but I didn't find much. The majority of the details his opulent lifestyle, his charitable endeavors, and his corporate empire, were known to the public. However, it was not personal. Nothing to justify leaving me a portion of his estate.

I sat back in the chair, rubbing my temples in frustration. I required a vacation. I got up and went to my bag. Before I left for New York, my mother had given me a few old family photos, which I had stored inside the front pocket. Although it had been years since I had looked at them, it seemed appropriate now.

As I paged through the pictures, my heart ached from nostalgia, seeing pictures of myself as a kid with my mother grinning next to me in each one. However, I froze at the bottom of the stack.

There was a picture I had never seen before, wedged in between two faded pictures.

The picture was old, had some yellowing around the borders, and was a little fuzzy, but the two persons in it could not be confused. With their arms encircling one another, my mother Margo stood next to a man. And Henry Monroe was that man.

With my heart pounding, I gazed at the picture. They were acquainted. This was not a casual affair; it went beyond that. There was history in the way they posed together and grinned at the camera. A past my mother had never shared with me.

With trembling hands, I reached for my phone and dialed her number. After it rung once and twice, she answered.

"Emily? Is everything okay?"

I responded, my voice quivering with rage, "No, Mom. It's not . I found a picture of you. alongside Henry Monroe. You claimed to me that you didn't really know him, but wasn't that a clear lie?"

I thought for a moment that she may hang up because there was stillness on the other end of the call. However, her voice was deep and subdued when she talked.

Emily said in a murmur, "Yes. That was a lie."

My throat tightened around my breath. "Why did you keep it from me?"

She whispered, "I was trying to protect you. You don't know certain things about your father's life."

The room spun around me as I froze. "My father?" I muttered.

Margo answered, her voice hardly audible above a whisper, "Yes, Emily. Your father was Henry Monroe."