Page 62 of Deadly Secrets

Chapter 25. CONFIDENTIAL

(Ander)

Claudia welcomed me home with open arms. She always had a smile on her face, and I wondered about two things. First, how could someone so cheerful give birth to someone who always seemed to wear a sour expression, and second, how my dad had managed to seduce a woman like her. Don’t get me wrong; my dad was still very good-looking and in great shape for his age, but he always looked angry, as if someone was constantly pissing on his shoes.

“Oh, Ander, I’m so glad you came to visit us. It’s a shame that my son couldn’t make it. Anyway, I’ve asked Rosita to prepare your favorite food for lunch.”

I kissed her cheek quickly and handed my small bag to Gordon, our butler. I had packed light and planned to stay in New York for only one night. Though I could have had this conversation with my father over the phone, I understood the significance of looking into his eyes to detect any lies. I mean, he had proved over and over again that he was a fucking good liar, but I hoped that he would at least give me a half truth if we had this conversation face-to-face rather than over the phone.

“Where’s my father?” I asked her as I removed my coat and my scarf. I also handed them to Gordon, indicating he could put them in my bedroom with my bag.

“He’s in his office. I believe he’s in the middle of an important meeting, but he told me he was having lunch with us, so he should be finishing up soon.”

“I’ll wait for him outside of his office. I’ll be quick.”

Claudia gave me a concerned look, but she knew me well enough to know by now that I was as stubborn as my father.

I headed down the hall and turned left before I reached the stairs. My father’s office was to the far left of the house, the last door to the right. I positioned myself with my back against the wall opposite his office door, crossing my arms while waiting for him to end his call. Although I could hear him talking, I couldn’t make out any words that would reveal the identity of the person he was speaking to or what they were talking about. After a few minutes of prolonged silence, I presumed the call had ended, so I pushed myself off the wall and knocked on the door three times before opening it. My father was comfortably seated on his luxurious leather chair, positioned regally behind a mahogany desk with stacks of papers placed on top of it.

“Hello, son. How was your trip?”

“It was okay. Thanks for asking. Can we talk?”

“Have a seat.” I crossed the room and sat opposite him in one of the two chairs. “You got me all intrigued after your call. What do you want to talk about that couldn’t be discussed over the phone?”

I knew his tactics well enough to realize that he was already privy to the reason behind my sudden visit. He only asked the question to coax me into spelling it out so he could feign surprise.

“Sienna told me.” I didn’t want to say anything else. He was the one who needed to do the talking.

“I see,” he responded. “Well, I thought it was a great business opportunity when one of the members of the board called me about the opening. That’s all.”

I leaned forward, placing both elbows on top of my thighs. “I know you, Father. I find it difficult to believe that this opportunity just opened up out of the blue. If at least you were honest with me and Sienna about the reasons that made you leave Cos Pharmaceuticals, maybe, only maybe, she wouldn’t have second thoughts about giving you the position.”

He hesitated, probably remembering that the final decision was in Sienna’s hands.

“Things are not black and white, Son. Since you were a kid and your mom and I got divorced, you’ve painted me as this big bad wolf who only does things to punish you. But you have no idea what I had to give up for this family or the sacrifices I had to make. I paid my price and did so willingly, but now I’m here to collect,” he spat out, venom lacing his words.

His phone started ringing. He looked at the screen with a frown. My father rose and strode purposely toward the door, saying, “Stay here. We’re not done with this conversation.”

I slumped on the chair and checked my social media and email accounts. I also texted Sienna to let her know that I’d arrived home. After a few minutes of scrolling through my phone, I got bored, so I started going through the documents on the table. Most were reports about prospective investment opportunities with charts and financial statements. I picked up a folder from the pile to my left, and my eyes widened as I read the label on the cover: “Cos Pharmaceuticals Inc. CONFIDENTIAL. Edward L. Moore.” Why did my father have a folder labeled with Sienna’s dad’s name? With trembling hands, I opened the folder, adrenaline coursing through my veins at the mere thought of my father returning to his office and catching me going through his private stuff. Curiosity overpowered any sense of caution, and I just hoped I didn’t end up like the cat in the old saying. Dead. Hanged by one of my dad’s expensive ties.

The folder contained many documents, from email printouts and balance sheets to reports and contracts. Uncertain if the contents held valuable information, I did the only thing that came to mind. I took my phone and started taking pictures of every single page. Once I was done, I returned everything to the desk and reclined in my chair like nothing had happened. My heart was about to come out of my chest, so I tried to control my breathing. I pretended to be checking my phone when the door opened. My father’s facial expression told me he wasn’t in a good mood, and for a moment, I honestly thought he’d caught me.

“We’re going to have to postpone our chat for another time. There are some issues at our Texas site, and I must go over there now and potentially fire some people. Why is it so difficult to find competent staff nowadays?”

I sighed, relieved I didn’t have to endure his company for too long.

He may not have disclosed why he suddenly became interested in Cos Pharmaceuticals, but something—call it sixth sense or the knot in my stomach—told me the answer to that same question was in those documents.

We made our way to the dining room, finding Claudia patiently awaiting our arrival. My father wouldn’t stay for lunch with us, and I felt terrible for her. I was sure she must have been excited to spend the afternoon sharing wedding ideas with me, but my plan was to lock myself in my room and go through every single document I had snapshots from until I found an answer—anything.

“I’m flying back to California tomorrow morning, so I guess I’ll see you in a few weeks for Christmas?”

“Yes. And remember to get your tuxedo ready for the ball. There’s no need to worry about the mask. Claudia got one for each of us shipped from Venezia.”

With the wedding around the corner, Claudia and my father had opted to host a grand masquerade ball for New Year’s Eve this year, so Zayn’s and my presence were mandatory.

“When you’re part of New York’s elite society, you cannot plan a tacky bachelor or bachelorette party like some middle-class couple. Our positions hold grand responsibilities, so planning an elegant party is the best way to handle people’s expectations. The masquerade ball is Claudia’s idea. I personally hate it, but planning events makes her happy and keeps her busy.”

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