EIGHT YEARS AGO
1793 Words
Chapter 5 — Eight Years Ago
Alexander Sterling hated memories.
They had a habit of returning when he least expected them.
Sometimes they came in dreams.
Sometimes in the quiet moments between meetings.
And sometimes they arrived wearing the face of the woman who had just walked out of his conference room.
Bella Hart.
Alexander stood alone in his office, staring through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The sun had disappeared behind the buildings, leaving the city washed in gray and fading gold.
Eight years ago, he'd stood in this same city and watched his entire world fall apart.
He had been twenty-four.
Young enough to believe his father was untouchable.
Old enough to know something was terribly wrong when the phone rang that night.
He remembered the voice on the other end.
The panic.
The hospital.
The smell of antiseptic that seemed to cling to everything.
And the cold corridor where he'd stood while doctors tried to tell him something he refused to understand.
His father was dead.
Richard Sterling was gone.
Alexander closed his eyes.
The memory came back in fragments.
Rain against the hospital windows.
Flashing lights outside.
A black car parked beneath the entrance.
His father's blood on a white shirt.
And one name repeated by lawyers, investigators and reporters.
Hart.
Daniel Hart.
His father's business partner.
The man everyone said had betrayed him.
According to the investigation, Daniel's decisions had drained money from the Sterling accounts and set off a chain of events that ended with Richard's death.
Alexander had believed it.
For eight years, he hadn't allowed himself to question it.
Instead, he had built Sterling Global into something powerful enough that nobody could ever put his family in that position again.
He had spent eight years making sure the Sterling name would never be associated with weakness.
And he'd spent eight years planning his revenge.
Alexander crossed the room and stopped beside his desk.
A photograph sat in a silver frame.
His father.
Richard Sterling was smiling.
It was one of the few photographs Alexander kept where his father looked genuinely happy.
He rarely touched it.
Today, he did.
His fingers rested against the edge of the frame.
“I kept my promise,” he murmured.
His voice was barely audible.
“I didn't let them win.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
Sebastian entered carrying a tablet.
“I have the information you asked for.”
Alexander turned away from the photograph.
“Tell me.”
Sebastian placed the tablet on the desk.
“Bella Hart is twenty-nine. Doctor at St. Vincent's Medical Center. No criminal record. No suspicious financial activity. No unexplained transfers.”
Alexander's expression remained unreadable.
“And her father?”
“Daniel Hart.”
“I know who he is.”
Sebastian paused.
“I assumed you did.”
Alexander gave him a look.
Sebastian cleared his throat.
“Daniel's official cause of death was complications from a long-term illness.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
Alexander's gaze dropped to the tablet.
Three years.
He hadn't realized Daniel Hart had been dead that long.
Sebastian continued.
“He left very little behind. Most of the Hart family's assets were already gone by then.”
“Because of the scandal.”
“Yes.”
Alexander leaned against the edge of the desk.
“What about Bella?”
“She supported her father until the end.”
“Financially?”
“Not exactly.”
Sebastian scrolled through the information.
“She worked two jobs while completing her medical training. She helped with his expenses and continued defending him publicly.”
Alexander frowned.
“Why?”
Sebastian looked up.
“Why what?”
“Why didn't she walk away?”
“From her father?”
“From the Hart name.”
Sebastian considered that.
“Maybe she believed him.”
Alexander's jaw tightened.
“Or maybe she's better at pretending than we thought.”
Sebastian didn't respond.
He knew better than to argue when Alexander's mind was already made up.
Alexander looked back at the tablet.
“Find everything connected to Daniel Hart's final year.”
“Already did.”
Sebastian handed him another file.
Alexander opened it.
He turned through several pages.
Then stopped.
A transfer record.
His eyes narrowed.
“This date.”
“Yes.”
“The week before Daniel Hart disappeared from public view.”
Sebastian nodded.
“There's something strange about it.”
Alexander looked up.
“What?”
“The account was closed afterward.”
“By whom?”
“We're still trying to determine that.”
Alexander looked at the document again.
The name.
The date.
The account number.
Something about it bothered him.
He just couldn't say why.
Then, against his will, his thoughts returned to Bella.
The way she'd stood across from him.
The way she hadn't lowered her eyes.
The way she'd said:
You hate my father.
He had.
He still did.
At least, that was what he'd spent eight years telling himself.
---
Across the city, Bella sat alone in her apartment.
It was small but comfortable.
Nothing like the polished luxury of Sterling Global.
There was a secondhand sofa, a narrow dining table, a bookshelf overflowing with medical textbooks and a tiny kitchen that desperately needed updating.
Bella liked it.
Everything in the apartment was hers.
She placed Martin's folder on the table and opened it.
The handwritten note was still there.
R.S. doesn't know.
Bella ran her thumb lightly over the paper.
“What didn't you know, Dad?”
The question disappeared into the quiet room.
Her phone rang.
Martin.
Bella answered.
“Hello?”
“I've been looking into the documents.”
“And?”
“There is something you should know.”
Bella straightened.
“What?”
“The records connect your father's company to Sterling Global shortly before Richard Sterling died.”
“I already know that.”
“Not like this.”
Martin's voice lowered.
“There was another account.”
Bella frowned.
“What account?”
“One that doesn't appear in the original investigation.”
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the folder.
“Whose?”
“We don't know.”
“Then find out.”
“I intend to.”
There was a pause.
Then Martin added, “There's one more thing.”
Bella waited.
“The documents were requested recently.”
“By whom?”
“Sterling Global.”
Her stomach tightened.
Alexander.
Of course.
“Why would they suddenly want them?”
“I don't know.”
Bella looked toward the window.
The city lights flickered below.
“Maybe Alexander Sterling is looking into the past too.”
Martin was silent for a moment.
Then his voice became quieter.
“Be careful, Bella.”
She frowned.
“Why?”
“Powerful people rarely reopen old wounds without a reason.”
The call ended.
Bella remained where she was.
Alexander Sterling.
She couldn't understand the man.
His hatred toward her family was obvious.
But when she'd mentioned her father's final words, she'd seen something change in his face.
Just for a second.
It hadn't been anger.
It had been doubt.
And somehow, that frightened her more.
Because if Alexander Sterling was beginning to question what had happened eight years ago, she might not be the only person searching for answers.
---
Later that evening, Alexander stood in the underground parking garage beneath Sterling Global.
He had dismissed his driver.
He wanted to be alone.
He was almost at his car when his phone rang.
“Sterling.”
It was the head of security.
“Sir, there's something you should see.”
“What?”
“We found something in the old archive room.”
Alexander stopped.
“What?”
“A box.”
“What kind of box?”
“Wooden. It was hidden behind some old accounting ledgers.”
Alexander's eyes narrowed.
“What's inside?”
“We haven't opened it.”
“Why are you calling me?”
There was a brief silence.
“Your father's name is on it.”
Alexander looked toward the elevators.
“Don't touch anything.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I'm coming.”
---
Twenty minutes later, Alexander stood inside the old archive room.
Dust covered the shelves.
Most of the files hadn't been touched in years.
The security chief pointed toward a wooden box behind several accounting ledgers.
Alexander approached.
The handwriting on the lid was unmistakable.
RICHARD STERLING — PRIVATE
His pulse shifted.
“Who found it?”
“One of the archivists.”
“Leave.”
The man hesitated.
“Sir—”
“Leave.”
The door closed.
Alexander stood alone.
For eight years, he'd searched for answers.
Now, when he'd finally convinced himself that there was nothing left to find, something had appeared in a room nobody had opened in years.
He lifted the lid.
Inside were financial documents.
Photographs.
Letters.
And one sealed envelope.
Alexander picked it up.
His father's handwriting covered the front.
But the words beneath his name made him stop.
Daniel — if anything happens to me, she must never know.
Alexander stared at the sentence.
She.
Who was she?
His fingers tightened around the envelope.
He hadn't even opened it yet, but already he knew whatever was inside had been important enough for his father to hide.
Then something beside it caught his eye.
A photograph.
Two men stood outside an old office building.
His father.
And Daniel Hart.
Alexander stared.
They weren't arguing.
They weren't enemies.
They were smiling.
He'd seen photographs of Richard and Daniel together before.
But never this one.
Never one taken so close to the night his father died.
He turned it over.
A date had been written on the back.
And beneath it, a single sentence.
We were betrayed by someone we trusted.
Alexander stopped breathing for a moment.
Someone.
Not Daniel.
Someone else.
He looked back at the envelope.
Daniel — if anything happens to me, she must never know.
For the first time in eight years, the story he'd built his life around no longer fit together.
Not completely.
Not anymore.
His phone vibrated.
A message from Sebastian.
Found something else. You need to see this.
Alexander stared at the screen.
Then at the photograph in his hand.
His father's last secret had just opened a door.
And for the first time, Alexander wasn't sure what he'd find on the other side.
But he knew one thing.
If Daniel Hart hadn't betrayed his father, someone else had.
And whoever that person was had managed to stay hidden for eight years.
Alexander looked once more at the photograph.
Then at the sealed envelope.
The past wasn't buried.
It had been waiting.
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