Chapter 9 - WESTBRIDGE CONNECTED TO MY FATHER
Westbridge Analysis Group had existed for eleven years.
It had been dormant for eighteen months.
Before that, it performed due diligence work for private equity firms.
Including Sterling Capital.
I stared at Dad across his library.
“You knew them.”
“Yes.”
“You said nothing.”
“I didn’t recognize the name immediately.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
I stopped.
Dad’s expression was tired.
“I recognized it after the mortgage file.”
“And?”
“I asked legal to verify.”
“When were you planning to tell me?”
“When I had facts.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That sounds familiar.”
He flinched.
Good.
“I’m surrounded by men who hide information to protect me.”
“I deserved that.”
“Why did Sterling use Westbridge?”
“They were subcontractors.”
“For what?”
“Background verification. Small acquisitions.”
“Who owned it?”
Dad hesitated.
That was enough.
“Dad.”
“Your mother.”
The room went silent.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Technically, a trust in her name.”
“My mother owned Westbridge?”
“She founded it before we married.”
I felt the floor shift.
Mom had died when I was sixteen.
I knew she had worked in finance.
I did not know she had owned an investigations firm.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You never asked.”
“That is a terrible answer.”
“Yes.”
He sat down.
“Your mother hated being defined by my company.”
A sad smile crossed his face.
“She said marrying a rich man made everyone forget she had been smarter than him.”
“That sounds like her.”
“It does.”
“So why was her company used on my mortgage?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who controlled it after she died?”
“A trust.”
“Who was trustee?”
“I was.”
My chest tightened.
“Dad.”
“I closed operations years ago.”
“But the entity remained.”
“Yes.”
“Who had access?”
“My old family office.”
“Names.”
He looked at me.
“Phoebe.”
“Names.”
“Three people.”
He listed them.
One was dead.
One had retired to Arizona.
The third made my stomach drop.
Leonard Pike.
Dana Pike’s father.
I stood.
Dad stood too.
“Phoebe.”
“Dana’s father worked for you?”
“For twelve years.”
“Did you fire him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dad looked away.
I knew before he spoke.
“Financial irregularities.”
I nearly laughed.
Of course.
“When?”
“Seventeen years ago.”
“Before Mom died?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He created duplicate vendor reimbursements.”
“How much?”
“About ninety thousand.”
“Did you prosecute?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Your mother asked me not to.”
“Why?”
“He repaid it.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
“He had a daughter in high school.”
Dana.
My mother had protected Dana’s father.
Now Dana was managing Selina’s books.
And a dead company once owned by my mother had appeared inside my fraudulent mortgage.
The pattern was no longer random.
It was personal.
Dad sat slowly.
“I should’ve told you.”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was finished.”
“Nothing is finished just because rich people sign a settlement.”
He accepted that.
I paced.
“How would Dana get access to Westbridge?”
“Old credentials, maybe.”
“Or her father kept documents.”
“Yes.”
My phone rang.
Rowan.
I answered.
“Phoebe, you need to come to Claire’s office.”
“Why?”
“Marcus wants to talk.”
I froze.
“The mortgage broker?”
“Yes.”
“Why now?”
“Because Selina fired Dana.”
That made no sense.
“Why would that make Marcus talk?”
“Because Dana disappeared.”
Two hours later, Marcus Bell sat across from us sweating through his shirt.
Claire placed a recorder on the table.
“You understand this meeting is voluntary.”
“Yes.”
“You have counsel?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you here?”
Marcus looked at Rowan.
“Because I’m not going down for Selina.”
Rowan said nothing.
Marcus turned to me.
“Your mortgage documents were fake.”
“I know.”
“Your husband didn’t create the fake income.”
Rowan closed his eyes.
I asked, “Who did?”
“Dana.”
“On Selina’s instructions?”
Marcus hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Why Westbridge?”
Marcus swallowed.
“Because Selina wanted something that would scare Gideon Sterling if it ever surfaced.”
Dad’s face hardened.
I leaned forward.
“How did she know Gideon was my father?”
Marcus stared at me.
Then at Rowan.
Rowan went pale.
“What?”
Marcus whispered, “She’s known for three years.”
The room went silent.
Rowan stood so fast his chair fell backward.
“No.”
Marcus looked miserable.
“She knew before the wedding.”
I stared at Rowan.
He looked genuinely shocked.
That mattered.
Then I asked the question that changed the meaning of my entire marriage.
“If Selina knew who I was before I married Rowan…”
I looked at Marcus.
“…did she encourage him to marry me?”
Marcus didn’t answer.
May you like
He didn’t have to.
His face did.
