Chapter 7 - Nobody Leaves With My Money
The resort’s marine team located Greg’s boat by GPS.
He wasn’t heading toward the airport.
He was heading toward another island thirty miles away.
Mr. Bennett showed me the route.
“There’s a private airstrip there.”
“So he planned this.”
“It appears so.”
I called our attorney, Rebecca Sloan.
She listened while I explained everything.
“Do not chase him yourself.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
“We preserve evidence.”
“We notify local authorities.”
“And Elena?”
“Yes?”
“Stop thinking about the wedding.”
“This is fraud now.”
She was right.
Within an hour, copies of the forged authorization, security footage, account records, and witness statements were secured.
Greg’s escape didn’t work.
Weather forced him to turn back before reaching the neighboring island.
Authorities met him at the marina.
He wasn’t arrested immediately.
But his passport was temporarily flagged while investigators reviewed the complaint.
By midnight, he was back on the island.
Sarah refused to see him.
My parents suddenly wanted to speak with me.
I didn’t.
Not yet.
I spent the night beside Mia.
At 2:17 a.m., she woke from a nightmare.
She screamed before opening her eyes.
“Don’t push me!”
I pulled her against me.
“You’re safe.”
She cried into my shoulder.
“I’m here.”
That was the moment my final hesitation disappeared.
Until then, some part of me had wondered whether canceling everything had been too severe.
After hearing those words, I knew I hadn’t gone far enough.
The next morning, I met Rebecca by video conference.
“I want every unauthorized transaction recovered.”
“We’ll pursue it.”
“And I want the footage of Sarah preserved.”
Rebecca studied me.
“Are you considering charges?”
“I’m considering every option.”
A knock came.
Dad entered without permission.
I closed the laptop.
“You need to knock.”
“Elena, we’re family.”
“That didn’t matter yesterday.”
He stopped.
For once, Dad didn’t have a quick response.
Then he sat down.
“I failed you.”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because I had waited thirty years to hear anything close to those words.
He continued.
“When Mia fell, I looked at Sarah’s wedding before I looked at my granddaughter.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know why.”
“I do.”
He looked at me.
“You spent my entire life deciding Sarah’s happiness mattered more than mine.”
His face tightened.
“That isn’t true.”
“It is.”
“When I got divorced, you asked what I had done wrong.”
“When Sarah broke off an engagement, you flew across the country to comfort her.”
“When I earned my CPA license, you said accounting was boring.”
“When Sarah started an online boutique that lasted four months, you called her an entrepreneur.”
Dad lowered his eyes.
I wasn’t finished.
“You didn’t suddenly fail yesterday.”
“Yesterday was simply the first time the consequences were impossible to ignore.”
He sat there silently.
Then he whispered.
“I’m sorry.”
I believed he meant it.
But an apology was not a time machine.
Before he left, he stopped at the door.
“There’s something you should know.”
“What?”
“Greg approached me six months ago.”
My body went still.
“About what?”
May you like
Dad looked ashamed.
“About you.”
