I’m partially avoiding them so I don’t rope them into the mess I’m in, but really I’ve spent all my time digging deep into Russo and Company, finding everything my father doesn’t want me to know.
And what I’ve found is enough to turn the tables of blackmail right back on him.
I’ve printed a stack of documents, proof of the money he’sskimming from his clients accounts and the past five years of tax returns that don’t match his altered bank account statements and 1099 forms.
I’ve managed to locate locked files in our shared folders and found so much incriminating evidence of money laundering and tax evasion, it physically makes me sick.
Sure, I owe him money for Hannah’s surgeries and I’ll pay him back every penny. But, I’d rather do it with dignity. At this point, the hardest part will be telling Hannah I lied to her about her medical expenses and took them on without her knowing about it.
She’ll be pissed that I didn’t tell her. She’ll be even more pissed that I indebted myself to him because she’s always disliked him.
I second guess myself for a moment, knowing I’ll be coming clean to her with a mountain of debt, no steps for my next plan, and unemployed.
The anxiety of the unknown laces through me and it’s completely overwhelming. But, it’s better than building my life around his terms.
I finish typing out my resignation letter and click ‘Save’, the company secured documents folder pops open and as I move my mouse over to the confirmation box, one of the subfolder titles catches my eye.
Ridgeway.
“Ridgeway…Ridgeway,” I hum as I repeat the word out loud because it looks familiar. Clicking the folder open. It prompts for a password and I use the one my dad always uses: Ca$hM0ney! A list of PDF icons appear, all named Parker—Hannah’s last name—with a date in ascending order.
I hold CTRL-A and tap enter, opening all the documents at once, the most recent one stacked and visible on top.
It’s a letter from the insurance company. Ridgeway was theinsurance company that my father said denied the claims for Hannah’s care.
I skim through the document dated four years earlier, a few months after her last surgery.
The wordssubmission, claim, andgrantedblind me like the light from a thousand suns.
“Holy shit.” I tap through the other documents, skimming over all of them.
He lied about it all. He may have had to pay for her care initially, but the insurance company coveredeverything. All he ever showed me was bank statements showing all the debits from when he paid out the hospital bills and doctors offices. I never assumed it was covered because that’s exactly what he told me.
And I fucking believed him. I scold myself wondering why I never thought to question him.
My father left for lunch a short while ago so I know I have at least thirty minutes before he returns.
I quickly click back into my email, type in my father’s address, and before I can overthink anything, I hit send. Attaching my resignation letter along with zip drive folders with proof of all the illegal shit he’s been doing.
I have no intention of using them against him, not right now at least. I just need to leave without a fight from him or any other repercussions.
Selecting all the documents, I print them all so I have copies for myself, then remove them from the base of the printer and tuck them in a folder inside my backpack.
Knock. Knock.
“Shit.” I zip up my backpack and pop up from behind my desk.
“Come in,” my voice is raspy as I call out. Because it could only be two people, my father—I really should have checked ifhe was still gone before sending that email—or Sarah, our receptionist.
Thankfully, Sarah pops her head through the opening of the door, announcing herself as she walks through it.
“Mr. Russo, Dane Campbell is here to see you. He insists you had an appointment but I don’t see anything on the calendar.”
I’m stunned because we didn’t have an appointment. I know he’s probably confused and curious about my last text message but I didn’t expect him to show up here. My heart flutters at the idea that he cares enough to be here.
“No worries, send him in.”
Sarah hardly has one foot out the door when I hear his voice; he must have been waiting just outside the door.
