The grand hall of Harlond Smith's estate was eerily silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the antique clock against the wall. Jillian stepped inside, her head held high, flanked by Dante and Leo. Their presence was uninvited, but she refused to face this alone.
Harlond sat at the far end of the long oak table, his expression unreadable, but his piercing gaze landed on the two men beside her with disdain. His fingers drummed against the polished wood, slow and deliberate.
"You've surrounded yourself with criminals," Harlond said, his voice low and filled with disappointment. "Is this what you've become, Jillian? A disgrace to this family?"
Jillian's jaw tightened. "A disgrace? For trying to find the truth?" She took a step forward. "You called me here, Father. So go ahead. What exactly do you want from me?"
Harlond's expression darkened. "I want an explanation! I hear rumors—my own daughter sneaking around with men who have blood on their hands. Associating with dangerous people who should be rotting in prison. Tell me, Jillian—why?"
Dante scoffed, crossing his arms. "Funny. You say that like you've never dealt with criminals before."
Harlond's glare snapped toward him. "You should watch your mouth, boy. You don't know who you're talking to."
Dante smirked. "Oh, I think we do."
Leo stepped forward, his usual easygoing nature replaced with something colder. "Let's not pretend, Mr. Smith. You've got plenty of skeletons in your closet. Maybe it's time we let a few out."
Jillian watched her father carefully. She saw the flicker of something—panic, anger, maybe even fear. He clenched his fists.
"I have done nothing that wasn't necessary to protect this family," Harlond spat.
Jillian narrowed her eyes. "Protect it? Or protect yourself?"
The room tensed. Harlond's face twisted, and in his fury, he slammed a hand on the table. "You don't understand, Jillian! Everything I did—I did for you, for this family's name! Do you think power and respect come without sacrifice? Do you think your mother—" He stopped abruptly, his breath heaving.
Silence.
Jillian stepped closer. "What about my mother?"
Harlond turned away, running a hand down his face as if realizing his mistake.
Dante's eyes darkened. "Now we're getting somewhere."
Jillian's pulse pounded in her ears. She had come for answers, but she hadn't expected this. "Tell me," she said, her voice deadly quiet. "What did you do?"
Harlond looked at her, his expression unreadable, but in that moment, Jillian knew—there was more to her mother's story than she had ever been told.
Harlond exhaled sharply, regaining his composure. He stood up, his towering presence casting a long shadow across the room. "You don't know what you're asking, Jillian." His voice was calmer now, but there was an edge to it—a warning.
Jillian refused to back down. "Then explain it to me."
Harlond's eyes flicked to Dante and Leo, his jaw tightening. "This is a family matter."
Dante chuckled, stepping forward. "That's funny, coming from a man who just admitted to doing things in the name of 'family.'"
Leo crossed his arms. "We're not going anywhere."
Jillian tilted her chin up. "I trust them. You, on the other hand, I'm not so sure about anymore."
Harlond's face darkened. He stepped around the table, closing the distance between them. "You want the truth?" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "Fine. But be careful what you wish for."
Jillian's stomach twisted.
Harlond walked past her, stopping at a cabinet in the corner. He unlocked it and pulled out a thick, leather-bound file. He placed it on the table between them. "Everything you're looking for is in here."
Jillian hesitated before reaching for it, but Harlond placed a firm hand on top of the file. "Once you read this, there's no going back. The truth doesn't just set you free, Jillian. Sometimes, it chains you to a reality you'll wish you never uncovered."
Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the file toward her. She flipped it open—and her breath caught.
Old documents, records, letters—some bearing her mother's name, others with names she didn't recognize. But the further she read, the clearer it became.
Lillian Smith hadn't died the way Jillian had been told.
Her mother had been silenced.
Her head snapped up, horror creeping into her voice. "You lied to me."
Harlond didn't deny it. "I did what I had to do."
Jillian shook her head, anger rising in her chest. "You let me believe it was an accident. You—" Her voice broke. "You let me grieve without ever telling me the truth."
Harlond's expression remained stone-cold. "Because the truth would have destroyed you."
Dante's fists clenched at his sides. "No, Harlond. It would have destroyed you."
Leo exhaled sharply. "So this is it, huh? The great Harlond Smith, protecting his reputation at the expense of his own daughter."
Jillian slammed the file shut. "I will never forgive you for this."
Harlond's face was unreadable, but Jillian didn't care anymore. She turned on her heel, storming toward the door with Dante and Leo at her side.
But just as they reached the exit, Harlond's voice rang out.
"You think you've won, Jillian?" He chuckled darkly. "You have no idea what you've just started."
Jillian stopped but didn't turn around.
"I don't care," she said. "I'm done being your pawn."
And with that, she walked out, leaving behind the man she once called father.
Jillian stormed out of Harlond's office, her hands clenched into fists. The truth was out, but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her.
Dante and Leo followed closely behind, exchanging wary glances. Neither of them spoke until they reached the car parked outside.
Dante leaned against the hood, crossing his arms. "So… what now?"
Jillian exhaled sharply, trying to steady herself. "Now? Now we do what we should've done from the start."
Leo frowned. "Which is?"
She turned to face them, her eyes blazing. "We take everything from him."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that? I mean, this is your father we're talking about."
Jillian scoffed. "A father wouldn't have lied to me about my own mother's death. A father wouldn't have manipulated me my entire life. Harlond Smith only cares about power, and it's time he learns what it feels like to lose it."
Leo nodded slowly. "So what's the plan?"
Jillian glanced back at the mansion, her mind racing. Harlond had just crossed a line.
Now, she was going to make him regret it.
Jillian took a deep breath, forcing her anger into something sharper—something useful. "We start with his secrets," she said. "Harlond Smith has spent years controlling everything around him. There has to be something he's hiding, something that could bring him down."
Dante smirked. "I like where this is going. But where do we start?"
Leo pulled out his phone, fingers moving swiftly. "If we're looking for dirt, we need access to his private records. His business dealings, bank transactions, anything that doesn't add up."
Jillian nodded. "We also need to find people who've worked closely with him—someone who's been burned by him before. If we can turn one of them, we'll have leverage."
Dante cracked his knuckles. "So we dig. But what happens if Harlond finds out what we're doing?"