Falling For My Accidental CEO Husband
Chapter 205: Information

Chapter 205: Information

"And the night he died... he’d found something...related to your brother."

Serena leaned forward, her expression intent as she pressed Sam. "What do you mean he’d found something? What kind of information?"

Sam swallowed hard, his face pale as he tried to organize his thoughts. "He called me that night," he began, his voice shaky. "Just before the accident. You know how he used to leave you with us sometimes when things got... complicated. When he called that evening, I assumed it was to let me know he’d be coming to pick you up. That was the usual routine."

He paused, his brow furrowing as if reliving the moment. "But this time, his tone was different—urgent, almost frantic. I could tell right away that something was wrong. I asked him what was the matter, but he didn’t give me much to go on. All he said was that he’d found something—something about his son. His voice was so... I don’t know, shaken. Like he was struggling to believe it himself."

Sam hesitated, his gaze darting to Serena before continuing. "And then he said something that left me completely stunned. He told me that if anything happened to him, I should make sure to send you to his mother or keep you with me. Not to hand you over to anyone else. That completely threw me. I mean, his mother. He’d always said she was the one behind everything—the one pulling the strings."

He took a deep breath, his words spilling out faster now. "I tried to press him, to get him to explain what was going on. But he brushed me off. He said he’d explain everything later, once he was sure. I could hear the strain in his voice so I didn’t press. I just thought that I’d ask him when we met."

Sam’s voice wavered as he finished, his hands clasped tightly together as he looked at her keenly. "I hope you don’t blame me for what I did—or didn’t do. I thought I was protecting everyone, Serena. I thought staying silent was the only way to keep you and my family safe."

Serena drew in a deep breath, her expression softening as she looked at the man, "No, Uncle Jam," she said gently, shaking her head. "I don’t blame you. You did what you thought was right. You were looking out for me, and I’ll always be grateful for that."

Sam let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as though a great weight had been lifted. "Thank you, Serena," he said quietly. "I’ve carried that guilt for years, wondering if I made the wrong choice."

She reached across the table, placing a hand over his. "You were trying to protect me, and I respect that. But now, I need to know everything—every detail, no matter how small."

Sam hesitated, his gaze dropping to the table before meeting hers again. "I know what I’ve told you so far doesn’t seem like much, but there’s something else—something I think might help you. It’s the real reason I wanted to talk to you."

Serena leaned forward, "What is it, Uncle Sam?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, as though reluctant to continue. "Your father... he had a habit. A way of keeping track of things."

"A habit?" she echoed, frowning.

Sam nodded slowly. "Yes. You know how some people keep diaries or write notes to themselves? Well, your father had his own system. But it wasn’t something obvious—nothing that could be easily found or fall into the wrong hands."

Serena tilted her head, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

"Your father was meticulous," Sam explained. "He saved everything—information, documents, even bits of what seemed like random trivia. But he didn’t store it in a diary or a notebook. He had a safer way of keeping it all."

Serena’s brows knit together. "What kind of way?"

Sam hesitated again before lowering his voice, as though afraid someone might overhear. "He encoded it and sent it to an email id. At that time, not everyone knew how to operate computers and send emails or use them.He used to carry a hefty laptop with him, another thing that had only started around the time. But he was an expert in all that technology. Since he said he’d found something that night, there’s a good chance he left a trail somewhere—something only you or someone close to him could understand."

Serena’s pulse quickened at the thought. "Where do I start looking, Uncle Sam? Do you have any idea what he might have left behind? Do you know this email id?"

He shook his head, his expression regretful. "I don’t know exactly. But if anyone can figure it out, Serena, it’s you. You were closer to him than anyone else."

Serena sat back, her mind racing with possibilities. If her father had left clues, she was determined to find them. Whatever he’d discovered that night—whatever had gotten him killed—was the key to understanding the truth about this entire mess. And she wasn’t going to stop until she uncovered it.

Once the old man had left, Serena remained seated, her gaze fixed on the empty space before her. Her mind churned with questions and unease. How had she not known about her father’s habit of meticulously saving information? It was unsettling, to discover something like this.

But beyond the surprise, there was something else—something that gnawed at her. Doubt. She had already identified the culprit. She was no longer grasping at straws; she had started to gather the evidence she needed to expose him and finally bring him to justice. The plan was in motion, meticulously crafted, and nearing its execution. By all accounts, this new piece of information about her father’s habit shouldn’t change anything in the long run.

And yet, it did.

Because deep down, an insistent feeling tugged at her—a sense that something wasn’t exactly right. It was subtle, like the faintest shift in the wind before a storm, but it was enough to unsettle her and make her feel doubtful.