Chapter 4: The Daughter I Never Knew Existed
The video played again.
And again.
I couldn’t stop watching.
The little girl sat on a narrow bed in a room that looked nothing like my mansion.
The walls were plain.
The blanket was thin.
There was a small stuffed rabbit beside her, missing one eye.
She looked directly into the camera.
“Dad?””
One word.
That was all.
But it destroyed me.
Because I had spent twelve years believing I knew every important moment of my child’s life.
Her first steps.
Her first words.
Her first day of school.
Her first heartbreak.
I thought I had been there for everything.
But somewhere in the world, another daughter had said her first word without me.
Taken her first step without me.
Cried for me.
And I wasn’t there.
I watched the video until my phone battery warning appeared.
Then I forced myself to stop.
“Marcus.””
My voice barely sounded like mine.
He appeared immediately.
“Yes, sir?””
“Trace this video.””
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“Is that…”
“My daughter.””
The words felt strange.
Not because they were false.
Because there were too many daughters I should have known about.
Marcus studied the video carefully.
“Who sent this?””
“I don’t know.””
“Could it be Vanessa?””
“No.””
I answered too quickly.
Marcus noticed.
“Why?””
“Because Vanessa wouldn’t send me proof.””
I looked at the frozen image of the girl.
“She would destroy proof.””
Marcus nodded slowly.
“Then whoever sent this wants you to find her.””
I stared at the message.
*You found one. Now come find the other.*
A question burned in my mind.
Who had been protecting these girls?
And why were they finally revealing the truth now?
I walked back toward Emma.
She was sitting on the couch wearing my jacket.
It swallowed her small body.
When she saw me looking at her, she immediately sat up straight.
Like she expected to be punished for taking up space.
That hurt more than anything.
“Emma.””
She looked at me.
“Yes?””
“I need to ask you something.””
She nodded.
“Do you know a girl named Sophia?””
Her expression changed.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
My heart stopped.
“You know her?””
Emma looked down.
“She told me not to tell.””
“Who told you?””
“Sophia.””
I sat across from her.
“Emma, I need you to tell me everything.””
She rubbed her hands together nervously.
“She used to visit me.””
“Where?””
“Here.””
My eyebrows tightened.
“Inside this house?””
Emma nodded.
“She came at night.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
“How?””
“She had a key.””
I stood.
A key.
Another secret.
Another door Vanessa had kept closed.
“What did she say to you?””
Emma looked at the floor.
“She said one day Dad would come.””
My chest tightened.
“She knew?””
“She said you were looking for us.””
I froze.
“Looking for you?””
Emma nodded.
“She said Mom was scared because the truth would make you angry.””
I leaned forward.
“Emma, when was the last time Sophia came here?””
Her eyes filled with sadness.
“A long time ago.””
“How long?””
“She said she had to leave.””
“Why?””
Emma whispered:
“Because Mom found out.””
The room became silent.
Vanessa didn’t just hide Emma.
She hid Sophia too.
And somehow, Sophia had been trying to reach me.
A child had been fighting to be found.
While I was standing ten feet away, completely blind.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered immediately.
“Who is this?””
A woman’s voice responded.
“Adrian.””
I recognized it.
Not Vanessa.
Someone older.
Someone who sounded exhausted.
“Who are you?””
“My name is Clara Bennett.””
The name meant nothing.
“What do you want?””
“I want to help you find Sophia.””
My eyes narrowed.
“How do you know about her?””
A pause.
“Because I was the one who took care of her.””
I stood completely still.
“Where is she?””
“Safe.””
“That isn’t an answer.””
“No.””
Her voice cracked.
“But it’s the only answer I can give until I know you’re not going to make the same mistake you made twelve years ago.””
My jaw tightened.
“What mistake?””
“Trusting Vanessa.””
The anger inside me rose.
“You don’t know me.””
“I know enough.””
“Then tell me where my daughter is.””
“I can’t.””
I almost shouted.
“You call me, tell me my daughter exists, and then refuse to tell me where she is?””
“She needs proof.””
“What proof?””
“That you love her because she is your daughter.””
My expression hardened.
“What?””
Clara continued.
“Not because she carries your name. Not because she can inherit your company. Not because she can fix your damaged reputation.””
I looked at Emma.
The girl who had slept on a dirty mattress while my mansion had twenty empty bedrooms.
“She needs to know you want her.””
My voice lowered.
“She is my daughter.””
“Then prove it.””
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Sir?””
“Find Clara Bennett.””
He nodded.
“Immediately.””
Within an hour, Marcus returned.
His face told me the news was bad.
“What did you find?””
He placed a file on the table.
“Clara Bennett was Vanessa’s personal assistant twelve years ago.””
I opened the file.
There was a photograph.
A younger Vanessa standing beside a woman holding a baby.
Clara.
“She worked for Vanessa?””
“Yes.””
“Then why help me?””
Marcus hesitated.
“She disappeared shortly after Sophia was born.””
“Disappeared?””
“Yes.””
I looked through the documents.
There were reports.
Payments.
Transfers.
Hidden accounts.
Then I saw something that made my blood run cold.
A bank transfer.
From Vanessa.
To Clara.
Every month.
For twelve years.
I looked up.
“She wasn’t protecting Sophia.””
Marcus frowned.
“What do you mean?””
“She was being paid to hide her.””
The room went quiet.
Then Marcus pointed at another document.
“Sir.””
I looked.
A second account.
Different name.
Same payment schedule.
But this one had a note.
My hands went cold as I read it.
*Payment for continued silence regarding Emma Cole.*
Vanessa had been paying two people.
One to hide Sophia.
One to hide Emma.
This wasn’t a mistake.
This wasn’t a desperate mother making one bad decision.
It was planned.
For twelve years.
I felt sick.
Then another message appeared.
Not from Clara.
Not from Vanessa.
From Daniel Whitmore.
The man whose name had haunted this entire nightmare.
The message contained only a photograph.
A photograph of Daniel standing beside Vanessa.
But they weren’t young.
They weren’t from twelve years ago.
The photo was taken three days earlier.
My breathing stopped.
Daniel wasn’t part of the past.
He was part of the present.
And beneath the picture was a message:
*“Adrian, you are finally asking the right questions. But you’re still asking the wrong people.””*
I stared at the screen.
Then another line appeared.
*“Come alone if you want to meet the woman who knows why Vanessa stole your children.””*
I looked at the timestamp.
The meeting location.
And the name attached.
A woman I thought had died twelve years ago.
May you like
Vanessa’s former best friend.
The woman who had been declared missing the same week Sophia was born.
