The Debt Collector's Daughter

CHAPTER FOUR: THE DECISION

I didn't go home.

Instead, I found myself at Riverside Park, sitting on a bench overlooking the water where my mother had supposedly died. Where her car had gone through the guardrail and into the river. Where they'd never found her body.

The folder Cassian had given me sat heavy on my lap. I'd been staring at it for twenty minutes, unable to open it, unable to walk away.

Finally, I pulled out the first document.

It was a police report from twenty years ago. Single, vehicle accident. Driver Isabelle Marlowe, age 32, presumed deceased. Vehicle recovered from river. No body found. Search ongoing.

The search had lasted three days. Then it was closed. Case marked as accidental death, body lost to the current.

But the report was thin. Too thin. No witness statements. No investigation into why she'd been on that road or where she'd been going. Just a neat little narrative: depressed woman drives into river. Tragic. Case closed.

I pulled out more documents. My mother's employment records with Vex Industries. Bank statements showing regular deposits, then suddenly nothing. A lease agreement for an apartment I'd never known she had, not the house where I'd lived with my father.

She'd had a whole life I knew nothing about.

There were photographs too. My mother at company events, always in the background, always professional. But in a few, the ones that looked personal rather than professional, she was laughing. Relaxed. Happy in a way I'd never seen my father look.

In three of those photos, there was a little boy. Dark, haired, serious, eyed, holding her hand or sitting on her lap.

Cassian.

I studied those photos with something twisting in my chest. My mother looked at him the way you'd look at someone you loved. The way she should have looked at me, but I had no memory of it.

My phone rang. Rosie.

"Hey," I answered, trying to sound normal. "What's up?"

"Where are you? I stopped by your apartment to borrow your laptop, but you're not home."

Rosie. Sixteen years old and already so much smarter than me. She'd gotten early acceptance to three universities, would probably study something impressive like molecular biology or astrophysics. She deserved the world.

"I'm at the park. Just... thinking."

"About the electric bill? Because I can ask Dad,"

"No." I said it too sharply. "Don't ask Dad for anything."

Silence. Then, carefully: "Elena, is everything okay?"

No. Everything was completely insane. I was sitting on a bench, contemplating marrying a stranger to find a mother who might not be dead and might have had an affair with a man who was definitely dead, all because of a ledger that might prove a twenty-year-old murder.

"Everything's fine," I lied. "I'll be home soon. We can work on your college applications."

"You remembered!" The happiness in her voice made my chest ache. "USC's early decision deadline is next week."

USC. University of Southern California. Marine biology program. Rosie's dream school, which we couldn't afford even with financial aid and scholarships.

But if I signed Cassian's contract, Rosie would have a five million dollar trust fund. She could go to USC or Harvard or anywhere she wanted. She'd never have to worry about money again.

"I remembered," I said. "I'll see you in an hour, okay?"

After she hung up, I pulled out the contract again. Read through the terms one more time.

Trust funds of five million dollars each...

Monthly stipend of fifty thousand dollars...

Twelve months...

Separate bedrooms...

It wasn't really about the money, though. Not anymore. It was about the questions burning in my mind. About the mother, I didn't remember and the secrets she'd kept. About the connection between our families that went deeper than I'd imagined.

About the locked lockets and the photographs and the sense that my entire life had been built on a foundation of lies.

I pulled out my phone and called the number Cassian had used yesterday.

He answered on the first ring. "Elena."

"I have conditions."

A pause. "I'm listening."

"First, I want to be involved in the investigation. Not just a prop you parade around at parties. If we're looking for my mother and this ledger, I get to be part of it."

"Agreed."

"Second, if we find her, when we find her, I get to talk to her first. Alone. Before you ask her anything about your father or the ledger or any of it."

Silence. Longer this time.

"That's not negotiable," I said.

"Alright," he finally answered. "You talk to her first."

"Third, you tell me everything. No more secrets, no more reveals. If you know something about my mother or our families, I need to know it too."

"Everything I know, you'll know."

"And fourth," I took a breath. "If at any point I feel unsafe or if you break any of these conditions, the marriage ends immediately. But the terms of the contract still apply. My sisters get their trust funds. My father's debt is forgiven."

"That's already in the termination clause."

"I know. But I need to hear you say it."

"If you feel unsafe or if I break our agreement, you can walk away and your sisters are still protected." His voice was steady, serious. "You have my word."

"The word of a man I met two days ago."

"The word of a man who has just as many questions as you do and needs your help to find the answers." He paused. "Elena, I'm not asking you to trust me blindly. I'm asking you to trust that we both want the same thing, the truth about what happened twenty years ago."

I looked out at the river, imagining my mother's car breaking through the guardrail. Imagining her inside, or not inside. Alive somewhere, hiding from whoever had killed Cassian's parents.

"I'll sign," I said quietly. "But I need two days to get things in order. Tell my sisters, figure out what to do with my apartment."

"Take whatever time you need. I'll have my lawyer prepare the final documents."

"Cassian." I stopped, not sure what I wanted to say.

"Yes?"

"Why me? Really. You're a billionaire. You could hire investigators, private detectives, anyone. Why do you need a fake wife to find this ledger?"

He was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer.

"Because," he finally said, "everyone I've hired has failed. Every investigator, every expert. They can't find what they're not looking for, and they don't know what questions to ask. But you... you're her daughter. You might see connections others miss. Notice things that mean nothing to an outsider but everything to someone who shares her blood."

"And the marriage part?"

"Keeps you close. Keeps you safe. Gives me a reason to be seen with you publicly without raising questions about why a billionaire is suddenly interested in a bartender." He paused. "And it gives me legal standing to protect you if things get dangerous."

"You think they will? Get dangerous?"

"I think whoever killed my parents and made your mother disappear has stayed hidden for twenty years. They won't be happy if we start digging." His voice hardened. "Which is why you'll live in my penthouse, where I have security. Why you'll have a driver and a bodyguard that you won't know is a bodyguard. Why I need you where I can keep you safe."

It should have scared me. Instead, I felt oddly reassured.

"Two days," I said again.

"Two days. I'll send the final contract to your apartment tomorrow."

"Cassian."

"Yes?"

"The lockets. Do you really think... could I be...?" I couldn't finish the question.

"Related?" He said it gently. "I don't know. But we're going to find out. Everything, Elena. No more secrets. That's my promise to you."

After we hung up, I sat on that bench for another hour, watching the river flow past and trying to imagine my mother alive somewhere, hiding, waiting.

Then I went home to tell my sisters that everything was about to change.

Rosie and Jade were sprawled across my apartment floor with college brochures when I walked in. They looked up, matching expressions of concentration morphing into smiles.

"You brought pizza!" Jade spotted the box I'd picked up on the way. "I call the pepperoni."

"You always call the pepperoni." Rosie grabbed a slice before her sister could hoard it all.

I watched them, these two girls who'd become more mine than our father's. Rosie with her sharp mind and quiet determination. Jade with her fierce spirit and terrible jokes. They deserved so much more than what I'd been able to give them.

"I need to talk to you both," I said. "It's important."

They exchanged glances. The kind of silent communication that siblings develop when they've learned to read each other's moods for survival.

"Is it about Dad?" Rosie asked carefully.

"Partially." I sat down on the floor with them, cross-legged like we used to do when they were younger and I'd read them stories. "He's in trouble. Financial trouble. The kind that could affect you both."

Jade's face fell. "College?"

"No. Your college is safe. I promise." I took a breath. "Someone has offered to help us. To clear Dad's debts and set up trust funds for both of you."

Rosie's eyes narrowed. "What's the catch?"

Smart girl.

"The catch is that I have to get married."

Silence. Then both of them started talking at once.

"Married to who?"

"Are you being serious right now?"

"Elena, you can't just,"

"His name is Cassian Vex," I interrupted. "He's a businessman. It's a contract marriage, one year, and at the end you'll both have enough money that you'll never have to worry about tuition or rent or any of it ever again."

"But you don't love him," Rosie said quietly.

"No. I don't." I met her eyes. "But I don't have to. This isn't about love. It's about making sure you both have the futures you deserve."

"We deserve a sister who's happy," Jade said fiercely. "Not a sister who sells herself to save us from Dad's mistakes."

The phrase hit harder than she knew.

"I'm not being sold," I said, though that wasn't entirely true. "I'm making a choice. And part of that choice involves finding out some things about our mother. About my mother," I corrected, because they had a different mother, one who'd been smart enough to leave.

Rosie's expression shifted. "Your mother? But she's been dead for,"

"Maybe not." I pulled out the folder. "Maybe she's been hiding. And this marriage, it's a chance to find out the truth. About her, about what happened, about things I should have known twenty years ago."

I showed them the photographs. Explained about the lockets, about Cassian's parents, about the ledger. Not all of it, not the parts about murder and danger, but enough that they understood this wasn't just about money.

When I finished, they were both quiet.

"You're going to do this no matter what we say, aren't you?" Rosie finally asked.

"Yes."

"Because you think you're protecting us."

"Because I am protecting you."

Jade grabbed my hand. "Then we're coming with you. To the penthouse or whatever. We're not letting you do this alone."

"You can't. You have school, and your friends, and,"

"School we can do anywhere," Rosie interrupted. "Friends are overrated. And if you're really doing this, if you're really marrying some billionaire to save us and find your mom, then the least we can do is be there."

I looked at these two girls, these fierce, loyal, stubborn girls who I'd raised and who had somehow raised me right back and felt something crack in my chest.

"Okay," I whispered. "Okay."

We spent the rest of the night eating pizza and making plans. Plans for how they'd transfer to a school near Cassian's penthouse. Plans for what they'd pack. Plans for how we'd handle questions from friends about why we were suddenly moving.

Plans that felt like hope instead of sacrifice.

At midnight, after they'd fallen asleep on my apartment floor like they used to do when they were little, I pulled out the contract one more time.

Tomorrow, I'd sign it. Tomorrow, I'd become Mrs. Cassian Vex.

And tomorrow, I'd start searching for a mother I didn't remember and answers to questions I'd never known to ask.

I looked at the matching lockets sitting on my coffee table, the tiny photographs of children who might share more than history.

Everything I'd believed about my life, about my family, about who I was, it was all about to change.

The only question was whether I'd survive the truth when I finally found it.