Behind His Empire

Chapter 8: A Question He Avoids

Lena Hart barely slept.

The anonymous message from the night before remained on her phone.

YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT WHEN HE WARNED YOU.

She had deleted it before going home.

But deleting the message hadn't erased the fear behind it.

Someone knew she was investigating.

Someone knew Alexander had warned her.

And someone apparently knew exactly where she had been.

By eight forty-five the next morning, Lena was back at Blackwood International.

She walked through the lobby with her head high, refusing to look around for anyone watching her.

Her mind was already made up.

She needed answers.

Not about the financial records.

Not about Meridian.

About her father.

She had spent twelve years accepting fragments.

Today, she wanted the truth.

When she reached the forty-second floor, Alexander's office door was closed.

She knocked.

"Come in."

She entered.

Alexander stood near the windows, holding a cup of coffee.

His eyes moved toward her.

"You came early."

"So did you."

"I usually do."

Lena closed the door behind her.

"I need to ask you something."

Alexander set his cup down.

"About the investigation?"

"No."

His expression changed slightly.

"My father."

Silence.

Lena watched him carefully.

There it was again.

That brief hesitation.

"Daniel Hart," she continued. "I want to know what really happened to him."

Alexander looked away.

"We've discussed this."

"No. We've discussed what you believe happened."

"That's different?"

"Very."

He turned back toward her.

"What exactly do you want to know?"

"Everything."

His jaw tightened.

"That's a broad question."

"Then I'll start with something simple."

She stepped closer.

"How well did you know my father?"

Alexander didn't answer immediately.

Lena waited.

Finally, he said, "Well enough."

"That's not an answer."

"I worked with him."

"You said you knew of him."

"I didn't want to discuss personal history during your interview."

"My father's history isn't personal to you?"

Alexander's eyes hardened.

"It became personal when he died."

Lena studied his face.

"Why?"

He said nothing.

"Did you trust him?"

"Yes."

"Did he trust you?"

Another pause.

"I believe he did."

Lena caught the hesitation.

"You believe?"

"I don't know what he thought near the end."

"Why?"

"Because he stopped speaking to me."

"When?"

"About two weeks before his arrest."

Lena's chest tightened.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"You never asked?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He wouldn't tell me."

"What did he say?"

Alexander's gaze moved toward the window.

"He told me that some things were safer left unknown."

Lena shook her head.

"That doesn't sound like my father."

"You didn't know him at work."

"I knew him."

Alexander looked at her.

"I know."

The softness in his voice caught her off guard.

Lena lowered her voice.

"Did he tell you he was afraid?"

"Yes."

"Of whom?"

"He never gave me a name."

"What about Michael Grant?"

Alexander's expression immediately changed.

"What about him?"

"You said Grant was involved in the suspicious transactions."

"I said his name appeared on several approvals."

"But you also said he entered the restricted room."

"Yes."

"And my father knew him."

"Yes."

Lena took another step toward him.

"Did my father believe Michael was responsible?"

Alexander didn't answer.

"Alexander."

He looked at her.

"I don't know."

"You do."

"No."

"You keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Stopping just before the important part."

His expression hardened.

"Because sometimes the important part isn't mine to tell."

"My father is dead."

"I know."

"I'm his daughter."

"I know that too."

"Then why are you protecting whatever happened?"

"I'm not protecting it."

"Then what are you protecting?"

Alexander went silent.

Lena waited.

Seconds passed.

Finally, he said, "You."

She stared at him.

"From what?"

"The truth."

She almost laughed.

"That's the worst answer you've given me."

"It's the only one I can give you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what the truth will do to you."

Lena's eyes stung, but she refused to let him see it.

"My father was called a thief."

Alexander remained silent.

"People looked at me differently because of him."

Still nothing.

"My family lost everything."

His jaw tightened.

"And you knew he was innocent."

"I suspected."

"You suspected?"

"I didn't have enough proof."

"You could have told us."

"I tried."

"You said that before."

"Because it's true."

"Then tell me what happened."

Alexander looked down.

"When I tried to contact your family, someone intercepted the message."

Lena froze.

"What message?"

"A warning."

"What warning?"

"That Daniel hadn't stolen anything."

Her heart pounded.

"Who sent it?"

"I don't know."

"Who intercepted it?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know anything!"

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Alexander's face remained controlled, but his eyes darkened.

"I know your father was framed."

Lena's breathing became uneven.

"I know he was trying to expose something."

"I know someone inside this company wanted him silent."

"And I know—"

He stopped.

Lena waited.

"What?"

Alexander looked at her.

For several seconds, he seemed to fight with himself.

Then he shook his head.

"Nothing."

Her frustration returned.

"That's the question you avoid."

"What question?"

"What do you know about my father's final night?"

Silence.

Alexander's eyes shifted away.

That was all the answer she needed.

"You know something."

"Lena—"

"What happened that night?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't there."

"Then how do you know?"

He didn't respond.

Lena stared at him.

"Who was?"

Alexander's face became unreadable.

"Go back to your office."

She blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Go back to your investigation."

"You can't dismiss me because I asked about my father."

"I'm not dismissing you."

"Then answer me."

"I can't."

"Won't."

He looked at her.

"Can't."

The distinction hung between them.

Lena picked up her bag.

"Fine."

She walked toward the door.

Before leaving, she turned.

"You told me trust is earned."

"I remember."

"Then start earning mine."

She opened the door.

"Lena."

She stopped.

Alexander's voice was quieter now.

"Your father didn't die because of the money."

Her fingers tightened around the door handle.

She slowly turned.

"What does that mean?"

Alexander stared at her.

For a moment, it seemed like he might finally explain.

Instead, his expression closed again.

"Nothing."

Lena stared at him in disbelief.

Then she walked out.

The door shut behind her.

Inside the office, Alexander remained still.

He looked toward the locked door at the far end of the room.

Then he opened his desk drawer and removed an old photograph.

Daniel Hart stood in the center.

Beside him was Alexander.

And behind them stood another man.

Alexander turned the photograph over.

Written on the back were six words:

Daniel knew who was behind the empire.

Alexander closed his eyes.

He had spent twelve years trying to keep that secret buried.

Now Daniel's daughter was standing in the middle of it.

And he wasn't sure he could protect her from what came next.

---

End of Chapter 8