The color had begun to drain from my father’s face.
“I didn’t understand everything then,” I admitted, “but I understood enough to know something was very wrong. I photographed those documents before putting them back exactly as I found them.”
“When you came home and found me suddenly interested in business ethics and corporate law, you thought it was just a phase.”
I looked directly at my brothers. “Did you ever wonder why Dad was so adamant about keeping me away from corporate law specifically? Why he was so threatened by my interest in financial crimes?”
Tyler’s expression showed dawning comprehension while James looked away, unable to meet my eyes.
“You’ve been investigating me,” my father accused, his voice dangerously low.
“I’ve been understanding you,” I replied. “Understanding why you built our family on the appearance of perfection while hiding what really paid for it.”
“Those three families lost nearly everything because of investment advice you gave them. Advice you knew was fraudulent. You directed them into holdings your firm needed to offload before the 2008 crash.”
The restaurant had gone completely silent now, every ear tuned to our table.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” my father hissed, but his typical confidence had faltered.
“The settlements you paid included non-disclosure agreements,” I continued. “That’s why none of them ever spoke publicly about how Westridge Capital Partners—how you specifically—betrayed their trust.”
“Mr. Morrison had a heart attack from the stress. The Guzmans’ daughter had to drop out of college. The Taylor lost their home.”
My mother’s face had crumpled, tears streaming silently down her cheeks.
“Natalie, please stop,” she whispered.
“You knew.” The realization hit me as I saw her reaction. “You knew all along.”
