Chapter 6 - The Secret Elena Never Recorded
Damon canceled everything.
He met attorney Claire Benton downtown.
Victor’s statement lay on the conference table.
“What does this have to do with Zuri?”
Claire adjusted her glasses.
“Possibly nothing.”
“Possibly?”
“Victor claims Elena asked him to establish a private trust four years ago.”
“For whom?”
Claire slid a document forward.
Zuri Carter.
Damon stared.
“How?”
“The trust predates Zuri’s birth.”
“Why would Elena establish a trust for a child she had met only through Naomi?”
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.”
The amount was substantial.
Five hundred thousand dollars.
Not enough to change Damon’s world.
More than enough to change Naomi’s.
But the trust had never been activated.
Victor had buried it.
Damon’s anger returned.
“Why?”
“He claims Elena discovered his financial misconduct shortly afterward, and he suppressed anything connected to her.”
Damon read the documents.
Elena had designated the money for education and housing.
This wasn’t charity.
It was a promise.
When Damon returned home, Naomi was waiting.
He told her everything.
She sat in silence.
“No.”
“It belongs to Zuri.”
“I can’t accept half a million dollars.”
“You’re not accepting it. Elena established it legally.”
“Why would she do that?”
Damon handed her another document.
A handwritten note had been found in Victor’s archived files.
Naomi read it.
Damon watched tears fill her eyes.
Naomi,
You told me you were afraid your daughter would begin life behind everyone else.
She won’t.
Don’t tell her a rich woman rescued her.
Tell her her mother kept going long enough for someone to notice.
—Ellie
Naomi pressed the letter against her chest.
“She barely knew me.”
Damon shook his head.
“She knew enough.”
That evening they went to dinner.
Not at a private club.
Naomi refused.
They went to a small Italian restaurant she liked.
Damon had not eaten somewhere without a reservation made by an assistant in years.
They talked for three hours.
Not about Elena.
Not about money.
About themselves.
Damon told her his father had considered affection a weakness.
Naomi told him she grew up moving between relatives.
Damon admitted he had once wanted to become an architect.
Naomi laughed.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“You build spreadsheets.”
“I own buildings.”
“That isn’t the same.”
He smiled.
“You’re becoming disrespectful.”
“I learned from my boss.”
They both knew which boss she meant.
Weeks passed.
The investigation ended.
Richard accepted responsibility publicly and entered a restitution agreement while cooperating with prosecutors.
Damon refused to erase the consequences.
But he visited his brother.
That mattered.
“I hated you,” Richard admitted.
“I know.”
“I thought Dad chose you because you were better.”
“He chose me because I was easier to control.”
Richard looked surprised.
Damon smiled faintly.
“We both spent too much time letting a dead man define us.”
Richard nodded.
“Elena would like this version of you.”
“I hope so.”
“No.”
Richard corrected himself.
“She’d make fun of this version of you.”
Damon laughed.
“That sounds more accurate.”
At home, Damon changed too.
The study door stayed open.
Zuri frequently invaded.
She kept a box of crayons in the bottom drawer.
One afternoon Damon discovered stickers covering a quarterly earnings report.
“Boss approval,” Zuri explained.
Naomi apologized.
Damon framed the page.
Months later, Naomi returned to college part-time.
She stopped working as household staff.
Not because Damon asked.
Because she earned an internship with the Ashford Foundation’s independent accounting office.
She insisted on interviewing normally.
She scored highest among applicants.
Damon stayed completely out of the decision.
“You’re annoyed,” Naomi teased afterward.
“I enjoy controlling things.”
“I noticed.”
Their relationship grew carefully.
Damon never wanted Naomi to feel indebted.
Naomi never allowed him to pretend wealth could solve every problem.
Their first kiss happened six months after Zuri entered the study.
It was quiet.
No orchestra.
No dramatic rain.
They stood on the mansion terrace after Zuri’s fourth birthday.
Naomi looked toward the garden.
“Do you feel guilty?”
Damon knew what she meant.
“Sometimes.”
“So do I.”
“For what?”
“For being happy here.”
He took her hand.
“Elena’s letter said something.”
Naomi waited.
“She said loving again wouldn’t erase her.”
Naomi’s eyes filled.
“She was right.”
Damon kissed her.
From behind the terrace door came a squeal.
They separated.
Zuri stood there.
Mrs. Whitfield behind her.
“I told you,” Zuri announced.
“Told us what?” Damon asked.
“Mama needs dinner.”
Mrs. Whitfield burst out laughing.
For once, Damon did too.
A year later, Damon made another decision.
He brought Naomi and Zuri into the study.
The black velvet box sat on the desk.
Naomi immediately understood.
“Are you sure?”
Damon nodded.
He opened it.
For the first time since Elena died, he removed her ring.
Zuri watched.
“Mommy’s ring.”
Damon smiled.
“Elena’s ring.”
Zuri nodded solemnly.
Damon carried it downstairs.
He placed it inside a glass display beside the gold lion.
Below them was a small plaque.
ELENA ASHFORD
SHE TAUGHT THIS HOUSE TO KEEP ITS DOORS OPEN.
Naomi took Damon’s hand.
But that night, Zuri wandered into the study once more.
She climbed into Damon’s chair.
This time she had both shoes.
She opened the bottom drawer looking for crayons.
Instead she found an envelope.
Old.
Yellowed.
Damon’s name was written across it.
But the handwriting was not Elena’s.
Zuri ran downstairs.
“Boss found mail!”
Damon took the envelope.
Mrs. Whitfield saw it and froze.
“Where did you find that?”
Damon looked at her.
“In my desk.”
Mrs. Whitfield slowly sat down.
“I wondered when that would appear.”
Damon stared.
“Who wrote it?”
Mrs. Whitfield looked toward the gold lion.
Then back at Damon.
“Your father.”
And just when Damon thought Elena had uncovered every secret in Ashford House, another one was waiting.
May you like
This one had been hidden long before she arrived.
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