Chapter 5: The Enemy Inside the Empire
For a moment, nobody moved.
Not Grant.
Not me.
Not even Sloane.
Her words stayed in the air like smoke.
My father wasn’t the person who destroyed your family.
He was trying to expose the person who did.
I wanted to believe her.
That was the most dangerous part.
Because after years of grief, after years of carrying anger toward the Mercer name, hearing those words created something worse than hatred.
Doubt.
And doubt was painful.
Because hatred was simple.
Hatred had a target.
Doubt forced you to question everything.
I looked at Sloane.
The woman who had been sitting in my seat five minutes ago.
The woman I had assumed was exactly who she appeared to be.
A threat.
A replacement.
Someone who had walked into my marriage and my life without caring what she destroyed.
Now she stood there looking terrified.
Not guilty.
Terrified.
“What did you just say?””
My voice was quiet.
Sloane swallowed.
“I said my father didn’t destroy Vale Technologies.””
“Your father owned the company that bought my father’s assets after bankruptcy.””
“Yes.””
“So explain to me why I should believe you.””
She looked down.
“Because I spent my entire life believing the same thing you did.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
“That my father was responsible.””
The cabin became silent.
Grant remained near the window, watching both of us.
I noticed something.
He wasn’t interrupting.
That bothered me.
Because Grant always controlled conversations.
Always.
If a meeting went in the wrong direction, he redirected it.
If someone challenged him, he found the weakness in their argument.
But now?
He was letting Sloane speak.
Why?
Sloane stepped forward.
“My father never talked about business at home. Never. When people accused him of stealing Vale’s technology, he refused to defend himself.””
“Why?””
“Because he said he didn’t have proof yet.””
I laughed once.
Bitterly.
“That sounds convenient.””
“I know.””
Her eyes met mine.
“I know exactly how it sounds.””
“Then you understand why I don’t trust you.””
“Yes.””
The answer surprised me.
She didn’t argue.
She didn’t get offended.
She simply accepted it.
“My father spent years trying to find documents that proved someone manipulated the Vale collapse.””
“Who?””
She hesitated.
Then looked at Grant.
My stomach tightened.
“No.””
I turned toward him.
“Grant?””
He looked away.
And that was all I needed.
I stepped closer.
“Why are you looking away?””
“Victoria.””
“No.””
My voice sharpened.
“You don’t get to stand there silently anymore.””
Grant rubbed his hands over his face.
“This is complicated.””
“Everything is complicated with you.””
Sloane spoke softly.
“The person who destroyed Vale wasn’t outside the company.””
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?””
She took a breath.
“It means the person who caused the collapse had access to internal financial records, investor communications, and your father’s private negotiations.””
My heart sank.
Someone inside.
Someone close.
Someone trusted.
My father had always said business was built on relationships.
He believed loyalty mattered more than money.
The idea that someone close to him had betrayed him felt impossible.
“Who?””
Sloane looked at Grant again.
This time, I followed her gaze.
And something inside me cracked.
“Grant.””
He closed his eyes.
Just briefly.
But enough.
“No,” I whispered.
He opened his eyes.
“Victoria, listen.””
“No.””
My voice shook.
“You knew.””
“Not everything.””
“But you knew something.””
A long silence.
Then:
“Yes.””
The word landed harder than any accusation.
I stepped back.
The man I had defended for years.
The man I had loved.
The man whose name was everywhere because I helped him build it.
He knew.
“Why?””
Grant looked at me.
“Because I was trying to find the truth.””
I almost laughed.
“The truth?””
“Yes.””
“You let me believe my father was a failure.””
“I never said that.””
“You didn’t have to.””
My voice broke slightly.
“You let everyone else say it.””
Grant looked down.
And I saw regret.
But regret was not enough.
Not anymore.
“You knew my father was framed.””
“I suspected.””
“How long?””
He hesitated.
“Six years.””
Six years.
The number echoed.
Six years of birthdays.
Six years of holidays.
Six years of me believing my father’s name was permanently damaged.
And my husband had carried this secret.
“Six years?””
“Victoria—”
“No.””
I shook my head.
“Six years ago, we were already married.””
“Yes.””
“You slept beside me every night.””
“Yes.””
“You watched me visit my father’s grave and tell him I wished I knew the truth.””
His face tightened.
“I know.””
“And you said nothing.””
“I was protecting the investigation.””
I stared at him.
“Or protecting yourself?””
His expression changed.
“Victoria.””
“No.””
I wiped at the corner of my eye before a tear could fall.
“I need you to answer something.””
“What?””
“If you knew someone destroyed my father…”
I looked at him.
“Why did you let me hate the wrong person?””
Grant had no answer.
And that silence hurt more than a lie.
Because sometimes the cruelest thing someone can do is allow you to carry pain they could have taken away.
Sloane moved closer.
“Mrs. Ashford, there’s more.””
I looked at her.
“Of course there is.””
She nodded slowly.
“My father discovered something before he died.””
“What?””
“He found evidence that the person behind the collapse was connected to Ashford Dynamics.””
My heart stopped.
Grant’s company.
Our company.
The empire built from the ashes of another family’s destruction.
“Who?””
Sloane looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t know the name.””
“Then what do you know?””
She reached into her bag.
For a second, I tensed.
Then she pulled out a small envelope.
“I found this in my father’s office after he died.””
She handed it to me.
I didn’t take it.
“Why are you giving this to me?””
“Because my father wanted you to have it.””
I stared.
“My father never met you.””
“No.””
She looked at Grant.
“But he knew someone would eventually have to tell you.””
That sentence bothered me.
“Why Grant?””
No one answered.
I looked at my husband.
“Why would your father trust Grant?””
Grant remained silent.
Too silent.
I took the envelope from Sloane.
My hands trembled slightly.
Inside was an old photograph.
Three men standing outside a building.
One was my father.
One was Richard Mercer.
And the third…
I knew him.
Everyone in the business world knew him.
He was one of the founding investors of Ashford Dynamics.
A man who had appeared in every article about Grant’s success.
A man who had helped transform a small engineering firm into a billion-dollar company.
Marcus Whitmore.
I looked up.
“What does he have to do with this?””
Grant’s face turned pale.
Because he knew exactly what I had found.
“Victoria.””
I held up the photo.
“Why is Marcus Whitmore standing with my father and Richard Mercer?””
Grant didn’t answer.
“Why?””
Finally, he spoke.
“Because Marcus was the first person who knew about the Vale collapse.””
“And?””
“And he was the person who convinced me to buy Ashford Dynamics shares before the company exploded.””
I stared at him.
The timeline formed in my mind.
My father’s company collapsed.
Grant’s company grew.
A powerful investor appeared.
And now my husband had secretly been buying back pieces of my father’s company.
Nothing made sense.
Unless…
Unless the connection wasn’t what I thought.
Unless Grant’s success wasn’t the beginning of the story.
Maybe it was the middle.
“Why are you buying Vale now?””
Grant looked at me.
“Because I finally found the missing evidence.””
“What evidence?””
His eyes moved toward the document.
“The original transaction records from the day your father lost control of the company.””
“And?””
“And they prove someone changed the numbers.””
My heartbeat quickened.
“Who?””
Grant hesitated.
Then the private jet speakers crackled.
The captain’s voice came through.
“Mrs. Ashford?””
I answered.
“Yes?””
“We have a problem.””
Everyone looked up.
“What kind of problem?””
A pause.
Then:
“Someone has remotely accessed the flight authorization system.””
Grant immediately looked alarmed.
“What?””
The captain continued.
“And they are attempting to override the aircraft restrictions.””
My blood went cold.
“Can they?””
Another pause.
“No.””
I looked at Grant.
“Why not?””
The captain answered:
“Because the system is locked to one person’s authorization.””
I already knew the answer.
Everyone did.
“Mrs. Ashford.””
I stared at my husband.
Grant stared back.
For the first time, we weren’t fighting about a seat.
We weren’t fighting about Sloane.
We weren’t fighting about a marriage falling apart.
Someone was trying to force this plane into the air.
Someone who knew exactly what was happening.
My phone buzzed again.
Another message.
Unknown number.
This time, only four words.
*You should have stayed silent.*
And beneath it was a photograph.
A photograph of the inside of the jet.
Taken just moments ago.
May you like
From outside the cabin.
Someone was watching us.
