Chapter 6
Nathan looked like Daniel after life had removed everything soft from his face.
Same dark eyes.
Same jaw.
Same height.
But there was no hesitation in him.
No guilt.
He held a handgun low against his leg.
Rebecca grabbed my wrist.
Nathan smiled.
“Don't scream.”
I screamed.
Not from panic.
On purpose.
The police were downstairs.
Nathan cursed.
Boots thundered toward us.
He grabbed me.
I fought.
Not elegantly.
Not bravely.
I kicked his shin and drove my elbow backward.
The gun struck the wall.
Rebecca shouted.
An officer appeared at the stairs.
“Drop it!”
Nathan shoved me aside.
A shot exploded.
Glass shattered.
Then officers tackled him.
I hit the floor.
Rebecca pulled me behind a bedroom door.
For several seconds, everything became noise.
Commands.
Struggling.
A second shot.
Then silence.
An officer shouted, “Suspect secure!”
I realized I was shaking.
Not delicate trembling.
Violent, uncontrollable shaking.
Rebecca wrapped her coat around me.
“Breathe.”
I hated when people said that.
But I did.
Nathan was taken away in handcuffs.
Blood ran from his nose.
He smiled at me as officers dragged him past.
“Victor already won.”
I forced myself to stand.
“No.”
His smile widened.
“You don't even know what game you're playing.”
“Neither do you.”
For the first time, his expression changed.
Then police took him downstairs.
Detectives found four hidden cameras.
Living room.
Kitchen.
My office.
Primary bedroom.
I vomited when they told me about the bedroom.
Three years of private life.
Captured.
Stored somewhere.
Used as leverage.
Daniel knew there were cameras and never warned me.
Whatever sympathy his earlier call created hardened again.
Nathan's arrest changed everything.
Police recovered his phone.
Victor's messages were on it.
DELETE WHITMORE FILES.
MOVE EMILY PACKAGE TO COURT.
DANIEL IS COMPROMISED.
And the worst:
IF EMILY OPENS 314, USE CAR.
The bomb order.
Direct.
Clear.
My uncle had tried to kill me.
By sunrise, Victor became the target of a nationwide manhunt.
Nathan refused to cooperate.
Daniel remained missing.
Then Carter Biotech's board called an emergency meeting.
Rebecca advised me not to attend.
I went anyway.
Victor's empty chair stood at the head of the table.
For years, I had sat near the end whenever I bothered attending.
This time, I placed my mother's will on the table.
The original was still with Daniel.
But Charles Whitmore had filed a sealed duplicate with an estate repository.
Anna's evidence allowed Rebecca to locate it.
The duplicate was legally valid.
Victor hadn't known.
Neither had Daniel.
My mother had built redundancy into everything.
The board's attorney read the provision aloud.
All of Margaret Carter's controlling shares transferred to me.
Effective immediately upon validation.
I now controlled fifty-four percent of Carter Biotech voting power.
The room went silent.
One director cleared his throat.
“Emily, given recent allegations concerning your mental health—”
I looked at him.
“Which allegations?”
He hesitated.
“Documents provided by your husband.”
“Forged documents?”
“We can't determine—”
“The doctor who supposedly evaluated me has never met me.”
Silence.
Rebecca placed an affidavit on the table.
“The hospital confirmed it.”
I continued.
“My uncle has fled from law enforcement.”
No one spoke.
“My husband stole estate documents.”
Still nothing.
“And my husband's brother was arrested inside my bedroom last night carrying a gun.”
One director lowered his eyes.
I felt anger settle into certainty.
“For years, this board allowed Victor Carter to operate without meaningful oversight because questioning him was uncomfortable.”
My voice remained calm.
“My mother paid for that.”
“My father may have died because of it.”
“And now I'm done protecting comfort.”
I proposed Victor's immediate removal from every company position.
Passed unanimously.
I proposed a forensic audit covering twenty-five years.
Passed.
I proposed freezing every account connected to Victor, Hawthorne Advisory, Daniel, Nathan, and the Mercer trusts.
Passed.
One director asked, “Are you planning to take over as CEO?”
“No.”
Surprise moved around the room.
“I don't want a job I'm not qualified for.”
That was something Victor would never say.
“But I will exercise my voting rights.”
I looked around the table.
“And anyone who helped hide this should resign before auditors find them.”
Two directors resigned that afternoon.
That told me enough.
The audit revealed more than thirty-eight million dollars diverted through shell companies.
Victor's theft had funded properties.
Political donations.
Consulting firms.
And payments to Nathan.
Daniel had received money too.
Three transfers totaling $900,000 before our wedding.
My heart broke all over again.
He had been paid to meet me.
There was no romantic interpretation.
He had accepted money.
I drove to my mother's grave that evening with police nearby.
“I should have listened to you.”
The wind moved through the trees.
I sat beside the headstone.
“I thought you didn't trust him because nobody was good enough.”
Tears slipped down my face.
“You were trying to save me.”
I stayed until dark.
When I returned to the car, Thomas called.
“We found Daniel.”
My chest tightened.
“Where?”
“He turned himself in.”
“What?”
“At the federal courthouse.”
“Why?”
“He brought the original will.”
I stopped breathing.
“And something else.”
“What?”
“A hard drive.”
My stomach twisted.
“What is on it?”
“Everything.”
Daniel had copied Victor's files for two years.
Payments.
Emails.
Recorded calls.
Surveillance orders.
Documents proving Nathan had been instructed to burglarize Charles's office.
Evidence that Victor had paid an emergency dispatcher years ago to delay help after my father's allergic reaction.
My knees weakened.
There it was.
Proof.
Not rumor.
Not an old recording.
Proof my father had been murdered.
And Daniel had been sitting on it.
“Why didn't he give it to police sooner?”
Thomas's silence told me I wouldn't like the answer.
“Because Daniel was using it as insurance.”
“Against Victor?”
“Yes.”
I laughed bitterly.
Everyone kept evidence instead of doing the right thing.
My mother.
Charles.
Daniel.
Maybe even my father.
Secrets had protected nobody.
“Where is Daniel now?”
“Custody.”
“Charged?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Conspiracy, attempted fraud, theft, obstruction.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did he ask for me?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Thomas paused.
“You don't want to know what he said?”
“No.”
My voice shook.
“If it matters legally, tell Rebecca.”
“And personally?”
“I can't do personally right now.”
For the first time since he left, I chose not to chase Daniel's explanation.
It hurt.
But it also felt like freedom.
Two days later, Victor was found at a private airfield in Maine.
He had cash.
A fake passport.
And a ticket to Iceland.
Police arrested him minutes before takeoff.
When I saw his booking photograph, I expected satisfaction.
Instead, I remembered him teaching me to ride a bicycle.
Holding my hand at my father's funeral.
Walking me down the aisle.
Then I understood something terrible.
People could love parts of you and still destroy your life.
The existence of one did not erase the other.
Victor called me from jail.
I declined.
He called again.
Declined.
The third time, he left a recorded message through his attorney.
“Emily, your mother lied to you about everything.”
I deleted it.
Then Rebecca called.
“You may want to hear the next part.”
“What part?”
“Victor says Daniel wasn't the one who first approached him.”
I felt cold.
“What does that mean?”
“He claims Daniel wasn't planted in your life.”
“But Mom's recording—”
“He says Nathan was.”
I went silent.
Rebecca continued.
“According to Victor, Nathan was supposed to meet you at the gala.”
My heartbeat quickened.
“Then why did Daniel?”
“Victor says Daniel switched places with him.”
I stared at the wall.
“Why?”
May you like
Rebecca spoke gently.
“Daniel says because he saw your photograph and didn't want Nathan anywhere near you.”
