Page 16 of Secret Revenge

Of course, I still thought it was messed up that my father’s death evoked such deep feeling of relief in me, but I knew that having him around would only have led to more devastation for my mom and I. He’d made it clear that he was never going to get better.

I was glad when my mom finally remarried, although it took her a while to finally let someone else in, since she was so focused on me and her work. My mom remarried around the time I graduated high school, and I was happy for her, but my stepfather and I did not spend enough time together to bond in the way a father and daughter could/should.

Still, I knew he brought my mother companionship and joy, just like she did him and I liked that they had each other.

I was glad to take on his last name when my mom changed her name to his and I was content to be called his child. He wasn’t rich, but he had enough to take care of my mother. Wedidn’t have to live as horribly as we had during the last years of my father’s life.

Recently, he had been climbing a ladder to fix the roof of the house and he had fallen and cracked his hip. My mother had informed me that he would need to have hip replacement surgery, which meant tens of thousands of dollars more in medical bills. His fall was the beginning of a familiar nightmare replaying itself.

I had wanted to pitch in so I could help, but my mom knew I was struggling and she did not want me to send money.

I felt terrible. I should be able to help them in their time of need. While we were not very close, he had been my father in every way he could, and he had been a wonderful husband to my mother. I wished that now when he needed me, there was a way that I could help.

This was why I needed to crack this Travis Ross case as soon as possible. Concrete proof of wrongdoing by such a high-profile billionaire was sure to generate dozens of new contracts and job offers. I might even be able to score the kind of pay rate that would ensure my mother was never buried in debt again.

But. But. I squeezed my eyes shut, my head pounding as I saw the image of Travis sleeping angelically in bed beside me.

I had gotten into journalism to chase justice and expose those who did wrong. In the beginning it had been easy, but those were the little people who were sloppy and did not wield much power to stop me.

They had superiors who were complicit in similar or worse crimes and who, so far, I could not touch. Superiors who controlled things from their mansions while pretending to care about the populace. These were the people I wanted to go after, the big fish. Travis Ross was the king of those—the biggest and the worst.

I remembered the moment I saw Ross Brothers’ announcement that they would be giving ten percent to the foundation to help those who needed it. For the first month or two, it was all I heard about on every single news outlet and magazine.

They were all singing the praises of the brothers, philanthropists, who cared about the people.

It made me furious every time I saw it. One day I had happened upon a news magazine that had the brothers on the front pages but instead of praising them, it questioned their motives. I was so glad.

Ross Brothers: Should We Really Trust Them So Easily?

The news magazine had printed that in bold and I had never grabbed anything off a newsstand so fast. I flipped to the page they were featured in. It questioned their motives and warned people to not be so quick to trust them and sing their praises. It talked about how their background was not exactly trustworthy and how people knew that their management was not going to be any different from the previous ones. All they were doing was virtue signaling for public attention despite the fact that they had not done anything yet. They were just making vain promises and taking the public as fools.

I had been so impressed with the article. These were the kinds of people I wanted to work with. I had gone in search of the publishing house and that was how I met Jonathan.

Jonathan West was an old man, old enough to be my father. I had told him quite plainly that I would love to work with him and when he asked why, I had brought up the article and told him I wanted to go after justice.

“Going after the Ross’s is not something most people want to do. For the longest time, they have believed themselves to be untouchable.”

Those were the words he had spoken to me when I told him of my intention. I had told him my father had been one of their victims and the effect it had on us. I was certain there were more victims like us, but nobody had gone after them and I had been too young to do anything back then. I was not too young anymore and I was willing to go against them.

Jonathan had explained that he had also been a victim of the previous Ross management. Travis’s dad sold him bad assets which had led to his company going under and he wanted to take his revenge. After his company had been destroyed and he had gone bankrupt, he had been unable to pay for the heart surgery his daughter needed which had ended up leading to her death.

“My daughter… She was everything to me. I didn’t care about the company going under… I didn’t care if I had to lose everything… but not her. Not my Amelia. I was forced to watch her die because Ross took everything from me. I was ignored even after going to kneel in his office to beg for help.”

He had understandably been unable to forgive Ross for it. He knew their company was built off the sorrows of others who had lost everything they had, some losing their lives as a result.

He had been suicidal, but for the memory of his daughter, he had started over, building his finances to start this publishing company. He had sworn to publish their atrocities one day.

We had bonded over our hatred and need for revenge and decided to work together. Michael and I would get the information he needed, and he would fund our work.

If I managed to find out the truth about the Ross brothers, he'd promised to give me a permanent position where I had full freedom to pick and choose what articles to work on. I'd get articles I'd have to work on, of course, but also the freedom to pursue my own stories. Basically, I'd have a stable salary and my freedom. Just one more reason for me to want to show the world how horrible the Ross brothers were.

This was another reason I needed to finish this case. There was so much banking on it.

I got up and headed for the tiny bathroom in my one-bedroom apartment. I needed to get ready to see Jonathan.

I arrived at his office, saw his greying hair bent over some documents, and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he said, not looking up. I took the seat opposite him.