Chapter 5 - WHY THEY WERE WATCHING KHLOE“I don't understand.”
Khloe repeated the sentence three times.
They were back at Raldi Tower.
Lily was asleep upstairs under the supervision of a female security officer she trusted.
Khloe sat in Sylvio's office while detectives examined photographs from her apartment.
“The device appears to have been installed at least several weeks ago,” Detective Hannah Brooks explained.
“But why?”
“That is what we're trying to determine.”
“I didn't know anything.”
Sylvio stood near the window.
“Maybe they thought you did.”
“About what?”
Detective Brooks opened a folder.
“Did you know a man named Oliver Evans?”
Khloe blinked.
“My father?”
Sylvio turned.
Brooks nodded.
“When did he die?”
“Eight years ago.”
“How?”
“Heart attack.”
“Where did he work?”
Khloe's confusion deepened.
“He was an accountant.”
“For whom?”
“I don't know. Several businesses.”
The detective slid a photograph toward her.
Khloe stared.
Her father stood beside a much younger Daniel Mercer.
She looked up sharply.
“Where did you get this?”
“Corporate archives.”
Sylvio crossed the room.
“Oliver Evans worked for us?”
“Not directly,” Brooks said.
“He audited one of Raldi Properties' earliest joint ventures seventeen years ago.”
Khloe stared at Sylvio.
“Did you know him?”
“No.”
At twenty-one, Sylvio had barely been involved in those accounts.
Brooks continued.
“Your father reported accounting irregularities.”
Khloe felt cold.
“What kind?”
“Missing funds.”
Sylvio's eyes narrowed.
“How much?”
“Approximately $640,000.”
“Who managed the project?”
The detective didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
“Daniel,” Sylvio said.
Khloe pushed her chair back.
“No.”
“The investigation disappeared after your father withdrew his complaint.”
“My father wasn't dishonest.”
“No one said he was.”
“He wouldn't withdraw something if he knew money was stolen.”
Brooks leaned forward.
“Did anything change around that time?”
Khloe thought.
She had been nineteen.
Her mother was sick.
Bills piling up.
Her father suddenly became nervous.
“He started locking the doors during the day.”
Brooks waited.
“He changed our phone number.”
Sylvio sat opposite her.
“Did he ever explain?”
“He said telemarketers.”
The explanation sounded ridiculous now.
Khloe's pulse quickened.
“Two months later, he quit accounting.”
“Why?”
“He told me he wanted less stress.”
“What did he do afterward?”
“Warehouse work.”
The room fell silent.
An experienced accountant voluntarily moving into warehouse labor made little sense.
Unless someone had frightened him badly enough.
Brooks placed another document down.
“Your father didn't die from a heart attack.”
Khloe looked at her.
“What?”
“The death certificate lists cardiac arrest caused by traumatic injury.”
“No.”
“He died after being struck by a vehicle.”
Khloe shook her head.
“No. My aunt said—”
“Were you there?”
“I was living in Arizona.”
“Why?”
Khloe stopped.
Because she'd fought with her father.
Because he had begged her to leave New York.
Because he'd become controlling and frightened.
She thought he wanted to run her life.
So she'd gone.
Three months later, he died.
Her aunt told her it happened suddenly.
By the time Khloe returned, the funeral arrangements were already made.
She covered her mouth.
“Why would she lie?”
Brooks' face softened.
“She may have been protecting you.”
“From what?”
Sylvio knew before the detective answered.
“Daniel.”
Brooks nodded.
“Oliver Evans was killed in a hit-and-run.”
Khloe went completely silent.
The room seemed to shrink around her.
“My father…”
“We cannot say Daniel Mercer had anything to do with it.”
“But you think he did.”
“We're reopening the case.”
Khloe stood.
“I need a minute.”
She walked out.
Sylvio waited ten seconds before following.
He found her in the darkened observation lounge.
She stood beside the window, arms wrapped around herself.
“I thought he was ashamed of me.”
Sylvio didn't interrupt.
“My dad kept telling me to leave New York. To go somewhere else. Start over.”
She wiped tears from her face.
“I thought he wanted to get rid of me.”
“Maybe he wanted you safe.”
“I didn't speak to him for the last two months of his life.”
Sylvio came closer.
“He knew you loved him.”
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“No, you don't.”
“I know parents sometimes protect their children badly.”
Khloe laughed through tears.
“That sentence sounds personal.”
“It is.”
He sat nearby.
“My father kept secrets too.”
“The people who hurt him?”
“Among other things.”
“Did you forgive him?”
“Eventually.”
“How?”
“By realizing forgiveness didn't require pretending his choices were good.”
Khloe studied him.
“That's annoyingly wise.”
“I have occasional moments.”
She almost smiled.
Then her face crumpled.
“I miss him.”
Sylvio didn't reach for her immediately.
He simply stayed beside her.
That somehow made the comfort feel safer.
When Khloe finally leaned toward him, he put his arms around her.
No romance.
No billionaire rescuing a helpless woman.
Just one person holding another while eight years of grief rearranged itself.
After a while, Khloe whispered, “Do you know what my dad used to say?”
“What?”
“Money makes people louder. It doesn't make them right.”
Sylvio smiled faintly.
“I probably would have liked him.”
“He probably would have hated you.”
“That also sounds possible.”
She laughed into his chest.
Neither noticed Lily standing around the corner.
Lily had woken from a nightmare.
The security officer had followed her.
When Lily saw her mother crying in Sylvio's arms, she hesitated.
Then Sylvio noticed her.
“Hey.”
Khloe quickly wiped her face.
“Baby, what happened?”
“Bad dream.”
Lily walked over.
Khloe lifted her onto the sofa.
Sylvio crouched.
“What was it about?”
“The bad man came.”
“He didn't.”
“I know.”
She reached for Sylvio's hand.
Then her mother's.
And placed them together.
“Now he can't.”
Khloe looked embarrassed.
Sylvio said nothing.
For a few quiet minutes, they remained like that.
Then Sylvio's phone buzzed.
Vincent.
“We found Curtis.”
Sylvio stood.
“Where?”
“Pennsylvania.”
“Police?”
“On their way.”
There was a pause.
“But there's another problem.”
“What?”
“Curtis sent an email to every major financial reporter in New York.”
Sylvio's face tightened.
“What did it say?”
Vincent forwarded it.
Sylvio opened the attachment.
Khloe watched him read.
His expression hardened.
“What?”
He handed her the phone.
The subject line read:
RALDI PROPERTIES EXPLOITS IMMIGRANT AND LOW-INCOME WORKERS — CEO COVER-UP EXPOSED
Khloe stared.
Below it were altered payroll records designed to suggest Sylvio personally approved wage reductions.
There were fabricated emails.
Fake signatures.
And photographs.
One showed Sylvio entering the hospital with Khloe.
Another showed him embracing her in the observation lounge minutes earlier.
Taken through the glass.
Someone inside the tower was still feeding information out.
The accompanying message claimed Khloe Evans was Sylvio Raldi's “secret romantic partner” and that the entire investigation had been manufactured to conceal company fraud.
Khloe's face drained.
“They're going to put my name everywhere.”
Sylvio looked toward the hallway.
“They already have.”
Her phone started vibrating.
Once.
Twice.
Then nonstop.
News alerts.
Messages.
Unknown callers.
Khloe stared at the screen.
The story was spreading.
And somewhere behind the false accusations was one terrifying truth.
Daniel Mercer didn't merely want to avoid prison anymore.
May you like
He wanted to destroy Sylvio.
And he was willing to destroy Khloe first.
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