Chapter 5
“Don't threaten my daughter.”
My voice was quiet.
I had learned years earlier that shouting rarely made dangerous people less dangerous.
Darius laughed.
“Your daughter?”
I gripped the phone.
“Say what you called for.”
He chuckled.
“Still acting like you're her real father?”
The words struck a familiar wound.
But I refused to let him hear it.
“What do you want?”
“Money.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“How much?”
“Two hundred thousand dollars.”
I stared at the wall.
“And what exactly do you think I'll receive in exchange?”
“Information.”
“What information?”
“Enough to keep Jada from taking the fall for something she didn't do.”
My heart began pounding.
“Then give it to the police.”
He laughed.
“You lawyers are all the same.”
I glanced toward Angela, who stood several feet away.
She noticed my expression immediately.
I put the call on speaker without making any promises to Darius.
Angela listened.
“Where is the money supposed to go?” I asked.
“Don't worry about that yet.”
“Then why should I believe you?”
“Because I know what was inside those packages Jada delivered.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Ask her about the warehouse on Fulton Street.”
I frowned.
Then Darius added, “And tell Claire I haven't forgotten what she owes me.”
The call ended.
I stood motionless.
Angela approached.
“Was that Darius?”
I nodded.
I repeated the conversation.
She immediately contacted Detective Ellis and documented the attempted extortion.
Then she arranged another meeting with Jada.
We needed to know about the warehouse.
The following morning, I attended the bond hearing.
Jada stood beside Angela in a plain detention uniform.
Her face was pale.
When she saw me, her eyes filled with tears.
I wanted to walk across the courtroom and hold her.
Instead, I sat beside Claire.
The prosecutor argued that the charges were serious and that the evidence included a firearm, stolen money, and surveillance footage.
Angela presented the court with information indicating that Darius had used Jada's vehicle and had pressured her to perform deliveries.
She also explained that Jada had strong community ties, no prior criminal record, and family support.
The judge listened carefully.
Then he granted bond with strict conditions.
Claire began crying.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
Jada looked toward me.
I nodded.
She gave me the smallest smile.
Several hours later, she was released into our care.
I drove her home.
Claire sat in the back seat beside her.
Nobody spoke until we reached the driveway.
Then Jada whispered, “Dad?”
I looked at her through the mirror.
“Yes?”
“Can I go to my room?”
“Of course.”
She hesitated.
“Are you going to yell at me?”
My chest tightened.
“No.”
She looked down.
“I deserve it.”
“You deserve accountability,” I said. “But screaming won't help us understand what happened.”
She nodded.
After she showered and changed clothes, Angela arrived at the house.
We sat around the dining table.
Jada explained the warehouse.
Darius had asked her to deliver three sealed boxes to an industrial building on Fulton Street.
Each time, a man named Victor handed her an envelope.
She was told the boxes contained refurbished electronics.
She was also told not to open them because the items were fragile.
“Did you ever see what was inside?” Angela asked.
Jada shook her head.
“No.”
“What did you do with the envelopes?”
“I gave them to Darius.”
“Did he pay you?”
Jada hesitated.
“Five hundred dollars after each delivery.”
I stared at her.
“You accepted money?”
She looked ashamed.
“He said it was for gas and helping him.”
Angela remained calm.
“Did you know the packages contained anything illegal?”
“No.”
“Did you suspect they might?”
Jada looked down.
“I thought something was strange.”
My heart sank.
She continued.
“But I wanted him to trust me.”
I looked away.
That sentence explained more than she knew.
Darius had turned his absence into a weapon.
He made Jada believe that pleasing him would finally earn the love she had always wanted.
Angela asked several more questions.
Then she advised us to preserve the messages, payment records, and location history.
After she left, Claire went upstairs.
Jada remained at the table.
I sat across from her.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, “I really thought he loved me.”
I looked at her.
“He may have feelings for you. But what he did wasn't loving.”
She began crying.
“He said you were controlling me because you didn't want me to know my real father.”
My throat tightened.
“What else did he say?”
“He said Mom kept us apart.”
I took a breath.
“Some of that may be connected to things Claire hasn't told you.”
Jada looked up.
“What things?”
I hesitated.
This wasn't my secret alone to reveal.
But I also refused to continue the pattern of adults deciding what Jada deserved to know.
“Your mother needs to explain her history with Darius. She is arranging legal advice first because some of it involves old financial misconduct.”
Jada stared at me.
“Mom committed crimes?”
“She has acknowledged wrongdoing from before we met. She needs to tell you the details herself.”
Jada covered her face.
“Oh my God.”
I moved beside her.
She began sobbing.
“I ruined everything.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I stole money. I lied to you. I screamed that you weren't my dad.”
I swallowed.
“Yes. You hurt me.”
She cried harder.
“But that doesn't mean our family is beyond repair.”
She looked up.
“Do you still love me?”
I felt tears rise.
“Jada, I loved you before you knew how to spell your own name.”
She began trembling.
“I remember.”
“I love you now.”
She threw her arms around me.
I held her tightly.
Then my phone rang.
Angela.
I answered.
“Marcus, the police searched the warehouse.”
My chest tightened.
“What did they find?”
Her voice became serious.
“Records connecting Darius to the robbery operation.”
May you like
I closed my eyes.
Then she added, “And there's something else. One of the recovered documents contains Claire's name.”
