Echoes of the Past

Chapter 26

 James POV

I sat in my office long after everyone else had left for the day, the dim glow of my computer screen casting faint shadows on the walls. The silence felt suffocating, amplifying the emptiness that had settled in my heart ever since Ava left. Yet I didn't want to return home. The house was too big, too quiet, constantly reminding me of all I had lost. There was no one waiting for me, no warmth to come home to—just the cold, hollow space that used to be filled with the laughter of the twins and the presence of my wife.

I couldn't bear facing that loneliness, so I buried myself in work, staying at my desk late into the night. Spreadsheets, reams of data—I pored over them endlessly. But something had been gnawing at me for months. The profit margins weren't adding up. No matter how many times I recalculated, the numbers were always off—lower than they should've been. It didn't make sense. I knew the business inside and out, I was meticulous with every detail, and yet, each month, a chunk of profits seemed to vanish into thin air.

Frustrated, I rubbed my temples and leaned back in my chair. Maybe I'd speak to the accountant tomorrow, but something was pulling at me tonight, something I couldn't let go. I had this feeling that I was missing something, something crucial. Then, a thought hit me—my father-in-law's notebook.

Emily's father had kept meticulous records—every transaction, every deal, every major decision. He often jotted down notes about the business, notes I didn't always have access to, despite holding the larger share. If there was a discrepancy, it could be hidden in those pages.

I made myself a strong cup of coffee, the bitterness biting, keeping me awake and sharp. I headed to his office, the one I hadn't entered in months. The place had an air of old-world sophistication—mahogany furniture, shelves lined with leather-bound books, and that heavy oak desk that had seen decades of business deals. A room where secrets could be hidden easily, maybe too easily. As I stepped inside, a pang of guilt hit me. Was this really necessary? But I reassured myself—I was protecting the business. I was sure Emily's father wouldn't mind, not when something felt this off.

I started with the desk drawers, rummaging through papers, files, and office supplies. But no sign of the notebook. My search grew more frantic. I moved to the filing cabinets, scanning old contracts, and letters—still nothing. As I was about to give up, my eyes landed on a cupboard. Inside was a briefcase.

I pulled it out, unlatched it, and papers spilled onto the floor. Kneeling, I gathered the loose sheets, but something caught my eye—a bank transfer. It was for a significant amount of money sent to an account in the Bahamas, under the name Oliver Hernandez. My heart skipped a beat. That name meant nothing to me. I knew all our clients, every business partner we'd ever had, but this one? This was new. And we certainly had no dealings in the Bahamas.

I shuffled through more papers, my unease growing with everyone. Transfers to different companies, scattered across the globe—London, Dubai, Hong Kong. Each month, huge sums are sent out. All the while, I hadn't known a thing. Why would my father-in-law be moving money like this? Why so secretive?

My hands trembled as I pulled out another document. It detailed payments to offshore companies—vague descriptions like "consulting fees" and "logistics services." None of these companies had ever appeared in our official accounts. The realization hit me like a freight train. This wasn't just some bookkeeping error. This was deliberate. Hidden. A pit formed in my stomach. How had I missed this? Why hadn't my father-in-law told me?

I kept digging, but with each discovery, the pit deepened. A ledger—coded entries, notes in shorthand I couldn't make sense of. One thing was crystal clear: Oliver Hernandez was central to this, and the Bahamas kept showing up like a red flag.