Chapter 3 - THE BIRTH CERTIFICATEArthur spent the entire night searching for his original birth records.
Nothing matched.
The certificate he had known all his life listed his father as Edward Vance.
But Maria had found a reference to another document.
Arthur confronted her in the library.
“Where did you get this information?”
“My father.”
Arthur stared.
“Your father knew about my birth?”
“He worked for your grandfather.”
Arthur's expression hardened.
“Doing what?”
“Security.”
“What kind of security?”
“The kind families hire when they have enemies.”
Arthur sat down.
“My grandfather had enemies?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
Maria looked at him.
“Enough to make people disappear.”
Arthur's blood ran cold.
“Tell me everything.”
Maria shook her head.
“I don't know everything.”
“Then tell me what you know.”
She opened a folder.
Inside was an old photograph.
Arthur recognized his grandfather.
Beside him stood a young man.
Victor Hale.
Arthur looked closer.
There was someone else in the picture.
A teenage girl.
Elena.
Arthur looked at his wife.
“Your family knew my grandfather.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My father worked with him.”
Arthur looked back at the photograph.
“Why?”
Elena finally entered the room.
“Because our families were connected long before you met me.”
Arthur stared.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of Victor?”
“Of what Victor knew.”
Arthur stood.
“What does he know?”
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
“That you aren't Edward Vance's biological son.”
Arthur's heart stopped.
“Then who is?”
Elena whispered:
“Victor.”
Arthur stepped backward.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
Arthur looked at Maria.
She slowly nodded.
Arthur laughed bitterly.
“This is insane.”
Elena approached.
“I found out after we married.”
“And you stayed silent?”
“I was protecting you.”
“From my own father?”
“From what he had become.”
Arthur turned away.
For years, he had believed his father was the man who raised him.
The man who taught him to ride a bicycle.
The man who told him that honesty mattered more than money.
Now he wondered whether every memory had been carefully constructed.
Arthur picked up the photograph.
“Why did Victor disappear?”
“Because he tried to expose your grandfather.”
Arthur looked at Elena.
“And failed?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He succeeded.”
Arthur froze.
“What?”
“Your grandfather was involved in something much bigger than the company.”
“What?”
“Illegal financial networks.”
Arthur stared.
“And the trust?”
Elena nodded.
“It was created to hide evidence.”
Arthur understood.
The inheritance had never simply been money.
It was protection.
A legal vault.
A way to preserve evidence until the next generation could use it.
“Daniel.”
Elena nodded.
“Daniel is the next beneficiary.”
“And that's why someone wants him.”
“Yes.”
Arthur's phone rang.
Victor.
Arthur answered.
“Who are you?”
A deep voice replied:
“Your father.”
Arthur's hands trembled.
“Where are you?”
“Close.”
“What do you want?”
“To protect you.”
“You've spent my whole life hiding.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandfather wanted you dead.”
Arthur froze.
Elena covered her mouth.
Victor continued.
“He believed you were the only person who could expose him.”
Arthur's voice became cold.
“And Daniel?”
“He is the reason they have started again.”
Arthur asked:
“Who is ‘they’?”
Victor was silent.
Then he said:
“Ask your wife about Sophie.”
The call ended.
Arthur turned toward Elena.
“Who is Sophie?”
Elena began crying.
“My first child.”
Arthur stared.
“You had a daughter?”
“She was born before we met.”
“What happened?”
“I was told she died.”
“Who told you?”
“My father.”
Arthur looked at Maria.
“Find the records.”
Maria nodded.
Hours later, she returned with a sealed hospital file.
The death certificate was missing.
But the birth record remained.
Female child.
Mother: Elena.
Name: Sophie.
Arthur looked at Elena.
“She may still be alive.”
Elena whispered:
“I've been looking for her for twenty-five years.”
Arthur closed the file.
Now the mystery had become larger.
Daniel's trust.
Victor.
His own identity.
And a daughter Elena believed was dead.
Arthur knew one thing.
May you like
He would find Sophie.
Because if she was alive, she might be the missing piece to everything.
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