CHAPTER 179: LEAVE HER OUT OF IT

HELENA’S POV

I slipped into Henry’s office, closing the door softly behind me. My heart hammered against my ribs as I stood there in the darkness, letting my eyes adjust.

The room was a sleek, cold space, all black furniture and shiny chrome accents. A huge desk took up most of the area, and the leather chair behind it looked more like a king’s seat than an office one. Everything was perfectly organise; not one thing was out of place.

I started searching, my hands trembling as I opened the first desk drawer. Locked. The second drawer. Also locked. The filing cabinet in the corner. Locked tight.

I tried his desktop computer, pressing the power button. The screen lit up, displaying a password prompt. Of course. Everything was secured.

I checked the shelves, looking behind books and framed photos. Nothing. The closet held only hanging files that were all labelled with generic business terms that told me nothing useful.

A tiny, desperate part of me felt relieved. See? Nothing. You can go. Tell them you looked and found nothing. Your brother is exactly who he claims to be... a legit businessman.

But even as I thought it, I knew it was a lie.

The luxury of this apartment, the expensive everything, the way he’d changed the subject when I’d asked detailed questions about his business... it all pointed to something.

"Helena! Come play VR with us! We’re starting a new game!"

The door burst open without warning. Ryan and Jason barrelled in in excitement, controllers still in their hands.

I jumped, my hand flying to my chest. "Jeeez! Guys, get out! I’m just—"

"C’mon!" Jason grabbed my hand, trying to pull me toward the door. "It’s zombies! The cool scary kind!"

"No!" I yanked my arm back, the sudden movement making me stumble. My elbow slammed hard into the solid underside of the desk, making me wince in pain. "Ow! Just... go! I’ll be there in a minute, I promise!"

"But Helena..."

"Out! Now! Go play, and I’ll join you soon!"

They finally left, grumbling about how boring I was being. I rubbed my stinging elbow, cursing under my breath.

I looked at the elbow and the place I’d hit. It felt like I hit something other than wood.

I used my finger to trace the place, and I felt it graze something, like a slight, smooth indentation that was barely noticeable. I dropped to my knees, feeling along the underside of the desk more carefully.

There. A tiny, almost invisible seam in the wood. I pressed it.

Click.

A panel on the side of the desk, perfectly smooth with the surface, popped open. Behind it was a small keypad, glowing softly in the dim room.

My blood ran cold.

This wasn’t just a locked drawer. This was something he’d gone to great lengths to hide. I tried his date of birth, punching in the four digits.

"Access Denied" flashed on the small screen.

My date of birth.

Access Denied.

Jason’s birthday.

Access Denied.

Ryan’s. Nothing.

What would he use? What was important enough to Henry that he’d use it as a password?

Then it hit me, a memory so painful it was almost physical. Mom. The year she died. The year everything fell apart and Henry left us.

My fingers shook as I typed in those four digits.

Beep.

Access Granted.

A small drawer slid open, and inside was a single, slim laptop. I pulled it out with trembling hands and opened it. The screen came to life immediately, but it was locked. I tried the same password, and it went through too.

There, displayed across the glowing screen, were folders. So many folders.

"Offshore Accounts."

"Contingency Plans."

"C.W. Transfers."

"Sinaloa Operations."

My heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

No. No, no, no. This can’t be real. Henry wouldn’t... But he did. He had.

Tears gathered in my eyes as I clicked on the first folder with shaking hands. My phone was already in my other hand, set to camera mode.

Account statements from the Cayman Islands. Millions of dollars flowing through numbered accounts. Wire transfers to Charles Watson, clearly labelled with dates and amounts. Documents detailing the ninety-million-dollar theft from the Sinaloa Cartel, complete with notes in Henry’s handwriting.

I took pictures of everything, my vision blurring with tears that I kept blinking away. My hands moved on autopilot... click, scroll, click, scroll. Each new document was another knife in my back.

He hadn’t just participated in the scheme. He’d orchestrated it. He was the architect of everything: the sabotage, the frame-up, the theft.

The worst part? There were emails between him and Charles mentioning me. At least he had the dignity to not involve me. "Leave Helena out of it. She doesn’t suspect a thing and would never suspect. She’s trusting and naive, and I’d love to keep it that way."

I had to put my phone down and cover my mouth to keep from sobbing out loud. The boys were just down the hall. I couldn’t let them hear me fall apart.

After I’d documented everything, every folder, every file, every piece of evidence that proved my brother was a monster, I carefully put the laptop back exactly as I’d found it.

I closed the secret drawer, pressed the panel shut until it clicked, and wiped my tears with the back of my hand. My fingers left wet streaks on the polished wood.

I walked out of the office on numb legs, closing the door quietly behind me.

In the living room, Jason and Ryan were deep in their zombie game, laughing and shouting at the screen. I sat on the couch and pretended to watch, nodding and making appropriate noises when they asked if I’d seen a particularly cool move.

But my mind was a million miles away, trapped in that office, seeing those files over and over.

When Henry finally arrived home, I couldn’t look him in the eye.

"That was quick," he said, setting his keys on the counter. "Turned out to be a simple formatting error. Helena, you’re quiet. Is everything okay?"

"Just tired," I lied, staring at a spot on the floor. "Long week."

"Well, why don’t you guys stay over? I’ve got the guest rooms all set up. We could make pancakes in the morning, the boys would love it."

"No, I... I think I should go home. The boys can stay if they want."

"Stay," he insisted, coming to sit beside me. "It’s late. You shouldn’t be on the road when you’re this tired."

"I have an early... appointment tomorrow. I need to prepare." The lie came too easily. "I’ll pick the boys up in the evening."

He studied my face looking concerned. "Are you sure you’re fine? Or you don’t just want to stay over."

"I’m fine. Just tired, like I said."

"Alright." He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push. "Be safe, okay? Text me when you get home."

"I will."

I kissed the boys goodbye, grabbed my purse, and left before Henry could ask any more questions. The entire walk outside felt surreal, like I was watching myself from outside my body.

My phone buzzed as I entered the cab. Layla’s name flashed on the screen. I ignored it, taking a deep breath.

It buzzed again. Big Boss this time. I couldn’t talk to them. Not yet. Not when I was barely holding myself together.

A third buzz. Tye.

My thumb hovered over the answer button, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell him what I’d found, couldn’t admit that everything he’d warned me about was true.

The drive home passed in a blur. I don’t remember the route or the streets passed until the car pulled up in front of the house.

Inside my apartment, I locked the door, threw my purse on the couch, and walked straight to my bedroom in the dark. I didn’t bother turning on the lights. I couldn’t bear to see my own reflection, couldn’t face the reality of what my brother had done.

I collapsed on my bed, the weight of Henry’s betrayal crushing me like a physical thing. The tears came then with no restriction, soaking into my pillow.

"Hey, Princess,you good?!"

My heart stopped. I cursed and scrambled off the bed, staring into the darkness. "Tye?!"