Chapter 174: The Roots of the Lie

Justin’s POV

I lay on the bed for almost two hours without sleeping.

My eyes were closed, but my mind refused to shut down. Every time I thought I had finally reached the absolute bottom of what I needed to know, another detail surfaced. Another connection. Another question. Another horrifying reason to believe that what had happened to my mother was far more calculated and malicious than any of us had ever been told.

The file I had gotten from my father had already been enough to keep me awake for days.

But what I had found afterward? That was entirely different. It haunted me down to my bones.

Because there was one central question I couldn’t stop asking myself in the dark: Why hadn’t my father investigated her past? How had nobody seen it? How had all those years gone by without anyone connecting the dots?

Diane hadn’t simply appeared in our lives by sheer coincidence. She hadn’t walked into my father’s corporate office one random afternoon, charmed him, married him, and accidentally ended up at the center of our family’s destruction.

No. There had been a reason. A beginning. A meticulously crafted plan.

And the more I thought about the information I had uncovered late into the night, the more certain I became that Diane had targeted us from the very shadows.

But I hadn’t known any of that yet when my phone rang.

I had been walking home with Harper after our ridiculous, beautiful karaoke night, still hearing her voice echoing in my head, still smiling at the memory of how she had dragged me onto that stage.

Then my phone screamed to life. It was late. Too late for a normal call.

I remembered looking at the screen and instantly feeling something shift inside my chest. I had walked away from Harper, stepped out onto the glass balcony, and answered.

"Hello?"

There was a short, heavy silence on the other end.

Then I heard the calm, calculating voice of the private investigator the man I had sworn to myself I would never call again.

"You found something?" I asked tightly.

"I did."

His voice was entirely too calm. That alone made me straighten my spine.

"What did you find?"

"I’ve been digging deep into Diane’s actual background."

I gripped the cold metal balcony railing. "And?"

"I didn’t want to dump all of this into your inbox without explaining the history to you first."

My stomach twisted into a knot. "What history?"

He was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Diane wasn’t a stranger to your family before she met your father."

I stared blankly out into the black night. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she knew your mother long before she ever crossed paths with your father."

I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.

He continued smoothly. "Diane and your mother grew up in the exact same hometown."

My grip tightened until my knuckles turned white. "What?"

"Same town. Same general social circles. Their families knew of each other back then."

I swallowed hard. "How?"

"That part is complicated."

"Then explain it to me."

He sighed through the line. "Diane was actually her father’s illegitimate child."

I went completely still.

"She wasn’t publicly acknowledged in the same way as his other children," the investigator explained. "She grew up mostly hidden from the larger family. She was there, but she wasn’t really there, if that makes sense."

I looked down at the empty street below. "She was kept away?"

"Yes. Her father provided financial support in certain ways, but she wasn’t raised as one of the recognized heirs. Your mother, on the other hand, grew up surrounded by a prominent, respected family."

My jaw clenched hard. "And Diane hated that?"

"I wouldn’t use that word unless I had direct evidence of what was inside her head back then," he cautioned. "But there are enough old records, neighborhood accounts, and people I spoke to that establish Diane was deeply, bitterly resentful of the life your mother had."

I closed my eyes, the cold air biting at my skin. "Keep going."

"She left town eventually. Went to college. Worked hard. Built herself up from nothing. She wasn’t born into the kind of wealth or status she wanted, so she decided to create it herself."

"That doesn’t sound like a crime."

"It isn’t."

"So what changed?"

"Your mother."

My eyes flew open. "My mother?"

"Yes," he continued slowly. "Your mother started making a real name for herself. Her company grew. She became a respected force in the industry. She had a family, a husband, children, and an unblemished reputation."

I didn’t like where this trail was leading.

"And Diane saw all of it," I murmured.

"She did."

"How?"

"We’re still piecing together the exact timeline, but she knew far more about your mother’s daily life than she ever should have."

I frowned into the dark. "What does that mean?"

"It means she was watching."

The single word landed on my chest like a falling boulder. Watching.

Suddenly, a dozen fragmented memories from my childhood flashed through my head things that had never made sense at the time. Shadows moving around the perimeter of the house. Strange inquiries being made. My mother occasionally changing our security protocols. My grandfather becoming paranoid about who had access to certain files and keys.

I had always brushed those things off as the normal paranoia of being wealthy and prominent.

Now, the ice in my veins told me a completely different story.

"She tried to befriend your mother," the investigator continued.

"She did?"

"Yes."

I leaned heavily against the balcony wall. "Why?"

"According to what I found, she initially approached her under the guise of their shared past. She wanted a relationship with her. Friendship, outwardly."

A harsh, bitter laugh almost escaped my throat. "Outwardly?"

"Because the friendship didn’t last."

"Why?"

"I don’t know the exact trigger between them. But several old acquaintances remembered that Diane became increasingly unstable and bitter after the relationship dissolved."

"Dissolved how?"

"She felt your mother had rejected her. She also believed your mother looked down on her that she considered herself superior."

I rubbed my throbbing forehead. "And then?"

"Diane vanished from your mother’s immediate circle for years."

I waited, my breath shallow.

"But she never stopped watching her."

My stomach completely dropped out. "What did she do?"

"Before I answer that, Justin, there’s something else you need to understand about her."

I said nothing, gripping the phone tighter.

"Diane didn’t look the same anymore."

I frowned, my brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"She had extensive facial surgery."

I stared blankly into the pitch-black darkness. "Facial surgery?"

"Yes. Enough structural changes to make identification virtually impossible, especially after so many years apart."

I didn’t know how to process that.

"She changed her legal identity, too," the investigator added.

My mouth went completely dry. "So my mother didn’t even recognize her when she came back."

"Exactly."

"And neither did my grandparents."

"No."

I slowly shook my head, disbelief warring with rage. "That can’t be a coincidence."

"It wasn’t."

My heart began hammering a violent, deafening rhythm against my ribs. "Why?"

"Because by the time Diane reappeared in your family’s orbit, she was no longer the woman your mother remembered from their past. She was a ghost with a brand-new face."

I slowly turned my head, looking through the glass doors toward the dark bedroom. Harper was inside, fast asleep and safe.

I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. "How did she manage to get close to my father, then?"

There was a heavy, calculated pause on the other end of the line.

"She found a way in."

"How?"

"Your father’s position made him vulnerable. He was ambitious, distracted, and easily flattered."

My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. "She targeted him to get to us."

"Yes," the investigator confirmed. "Diane went through him because she knew he held the keys to the empire."

He continued, driving the final nail into the coffin. "Your father was already managing the company alongside your mother. Diane understood the corporate structure inside and out. She knew what your mother owned, and she knew exactly where the vulnerabilities were hidden."

I stood frozen on the balcony, feeling an absolute, numbing wave of cold wash over my skin.

"And that’s when she started planning the end?" I whispered.

"Yes."