Chapter 11 - The Million-Dollar Baby
By noon, every reporter in Chicago knew Ava existed.
Some called her Daniel Callaway’s secret daughter.
Others called her the Callaway heiress.
One particularly disgusting site estimated her inheritance before she could say “Mama.”
We moved.
Not to Reed’s mansion.
Not Daniel’s safe house.
Mrs. Perez suggested somewhere nobody associated with the Callaways.
Her sister’s empty convent guesthouse outside the city.
I agreed.
Reed hated it.
That helped convince me.
Then lawyers explained the inheritance.
Daniel’s child did inherit a trust.
But not immediately.
At twenty-five.
Until then, a guardian controlled voting rights.
The guardian named in Anthony Callaway’s original documents:
Daniel.
If unavailable:
Reed.
If both unavailable:
The child’s mother.
Me.
Now the attacks made sense.
If Daniel stayed legally dead and Reed was removed, I became guardian.
Someone expected me to be easy to manipulate.
Poor waitress.
Eleven dollars.
Baby formula.
Rent due.
Offer enough money and surely she signs anything.
Thomas had misunderstood poverty.
Being broke makes money important.
It doesn’t automatically make you stupid.
Then Daniel showed me something.
A bank account.
Mine.
Except I had never opened it.
Balance:
$3.8 million.
I stared.
“What is this?”
“Money I sent over eight months.”
I almost hit him again.
“Where was it?”
“Held in trust.”
“Why?”
“I was afraid direct transfers would expose you.”
“So while I had eleven dollars—”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I know.”
“You watched me nearly lose my apartment while millions sat somewhere with my name on them?”
His face twisted.
“The trustee was supposed to release emergency payments.”
“Who was the trustee?”
He looked at me.
“Elena.”
Of course.
We confronted her.
She denied withholding it.
Records proved she approved monthly transfers.
But none reached me.
Someone intercepted them.
Who?
Mrs. Perez.
My heart dropped again.
“No.”
She looked horrified.
Then Tommy discovered the truth.
The receiving account was opened using Mrs. Perez’s identity.
But the money immediately moved.
To a medical foundation.
The Perez Foundation.
Mrs. Perez began crying.
Her daughter Sofia had died ten years earlier.
No foundation existed.
Someone had used her dead daughter’s name.
Then we traced the final destination.
Phoenix.
A solar company.
The same company “Evan Mercer” had supposedly worked for.
Daniel stared.
“I never worked there.”
“Then who created your cover identity?”
“Elena.”
Everyone turned.
Again.
This time Elena stopped denying things.
“I created Evan Mercer.”
“Why route Mara’s money through his company?”
“I didn’t.”
“Who had access?”
“One person.”
“Who?”
She looked at Daniel.
“You.”
He stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Elena opened her laptop.
Login records.
Transfers authorized using Daniel’s biometric key.
Dates included periods when he was supposedly hiding in Mexico.
Daniel looked genuinely confused.
Then Reed noticed something.
The authentication logs showed facial confirmation.
A captured image.
Daniel.
Except the man had no scar near his jaw.
Daniel received that scar during the attack that forced him into hiding.
The transfers occurred afterward.
Meaning the man using Daniel’s face—
was someone else.
Reed whispered:
“Zoom in.”
Tommy enlarged the image.
Same eyes.
Same nose.
Same mouth.
Daniel looked like he had seen a ghost.
“I know him.”
“Who?”
He swallowed.
“My twin brother.”
Silence.
I stared at him.
“You have a twin?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I had one.”
Reed went pale.
“No.”
Daniel whispered:
May you like
“Samuel died when we were nine.”
And somewhere in this cursed family, another dead man had apparently decided to come home.
