Chapter 3
Martin Keller stopped ten feet away.
Margaret immediately closed the briefcase.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.
Martin smiled.
“Neither should you.”
I stepped between them.
“You’ve been helping Chloe.”
His expression barely changed.
“Chloe is a client.”
“She beat my pregnant wife.”
“That sounds like a criminal matter.”
“You told her to get Emily’s signature.”
He adjusted his cuff.
“I give legal advice. I don’t control what clients do.”
Margaret laughed bitterly.
“You’ve always been good at separating yourself from the damage.”
Martin’s smile disappeared.
I held Grandpa’s letter tighter.
“What did my grandfather leave my son?”
Martin looked at the envelope.
For the first time, I saw fear in his eyes.
“Where did you get that?”
“Answer me.”
He glanced at Margaret.
“She doesn’t know everything.”
“I know enough,” Margaret said.
Martin leaned closer.
“The trust owns fifty-one percent of Lakewood Holdings.”
I stopped breathing.
“That company was sold.”
“No,” Margaret said. “Your father told you it was sold.”
Martin sighed.
“Technically, several divisions were sold. The holding company remained.”
“What is it worth?”
Neither answered immediately.
“Tell me.”
Margaret finally spoke.
“Last valuation?”
She swallowed.
“Approximately one hundred and eighty million.”
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
Emily wasn’t attacked over twelve million dollars.
Our unborn son controlled an empire.
“Why would Grandpa do that?”
Margaret’s eyes softened.
“Because he didn’t trust your father.”
Martin interrupted.
“He also didn’t trust Ryan.”
I turned toward him.
“What?”
“The trust doesn’t give Ryan control.”
“Then who controls it?”
“Until the child turns twenty-five, an independent trustee does.”
“Who?”
Martin stared at me.
“Emily.”
My blood turned cold.
Now everything made sense.
They hadn’t needed my signature.
They needed hers.
Margaret nodded.
“Your grandfather amended the trust after meeting Emily three years ago.”
“Grandpa barely knew her.”
“He knew enough.”
A memory returned.
Grandpa sitting beside Emily at our wedding.
He had asked her one strange question.
If Ryan ever had more money than sense, would you tell him?
Emily had laughed.
Every single day.
Grandpa had smiled.
Apparently, that answer had mattered.
I rushed upstairs.
Emily was awake.
I told her everything.
She listened silently.
Then she said, “I don’t want it.”
“What?”
“The money. The company. Any of it.”
“You’re not getting it. Our son is.”
“And look what people did before he was even born.”
She touched her stomach.
“They hurt me because of him.”
“No. Because of their greed.”
She shook her head.
“I want him safe.”
“So do I.”
Then her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Our house.
Taken from across the street.
Underneath it was one sentence.
Drop the charges and sign the transfer, or next time Ryan won’t arrive early.
I immediately called Harris.
Police surrounded the hotel within twenty minutes.
Martin Keller was gone.
Margaret stayed.
She looked at the threatening message and whispered, “This is worse than I thought.”
“What do you mean?”
“Martin doesn’t threaten people himself.”
“Then who does?”
She looked toward Emily.
“Your father has a younger brother.”
I frowned.
“My father is an only child.”
“That is what you were told.”
Another lie.
Margaret opened her briefcase again.
This time she removed an old photograph.
Grandpa stood beside two teenage boys.
One was Dad.
The other looked almost exactly like him.
“His name is Victor,” Margaret said.
“Where is he?”
“No one knows.”
“Why have I never heard of him?”
“Because twenty-seven years ago, Victor tried to steal from your grandfather.”
“What happened?”
“Your grandfather disowned him.”
Emily looked at the threatening photograph again.
“And now he’s back?”
Margaret nodded.
“I think he never left.”
My phone rang.
Detective Harris.
I answered immediately.
“We searched Keller’s office,” he said.
“And?”
“We found financial records connecting him to someone using the name Victor Carter.”
My stomach tightened.
“There’s more,” Harris continued.
“What?”
“Victor has been receiving payments from your father for twenty-six years.”
I looked at Margaret.
Dad hadn’t hidden Victor.
Dad had been funding him.
May you like
And suddenly I understood something terrifying.
The three people arrested today might not have been the real threat.
