CHAPTER 3 THE PRESCOTT EMPIRE STARTS TO CRACK
CHAPTER 3
THE PRESCOTT EMPIRE STARTS TO CRACK
The Prescott family had spent forty years building an empire.
They built it with money.
With influence.
With carefully chosen friendships.
They donated to hospitals.
They appeared at charity galas.
They shook hands with politicians and smiled beside cameras.
To the world, they were perfection.
The Prescott family represented success.
Power.
Respectability.
But I had learned something during my years in the military.
Every fortress had a weakness.
You just had to find the right place to strike.
And the Prescott family had already shown me theirs.
They underestimated me.
At 0600 hours the next morning, I was sitting inside a private conference room at Fort Liberty.
The room was simple.
A long table.
A whiteboard.
A few folders.
No distractions.
I had spent thousands of hours in rooms like this.
Planning operations.
Analyzing threats.
Making decisions where lives depended on accuracy.
Across from me sat Daniel Reeves.
Former Army intelligence officer.
Now a private investigator.
The kind of man who noticed everything.
He looked through the documents scattered across the table.
“Victoria.”
“Yes?”
“This family is not normal.”
I leaned back.
“Explain.”
He placed a file on the table.
“The Prescott Group controls investments across real estate, technology, healthcare, and political consulting.”
“I know.”
“No, you know their public image.”
He tapped the folder.
“This is different.”
I opened it.
Inside were pages of financial records.
Property ownership.
Corporate connections.
Charity foundations.
Then I saw something.
A name.
Prescott Family Foundation.
Daniel pointed.
“Look at the dates.”
I studied them.
Donations.
Millions of dollars.
All made shortly after legal complaints involving Prescott businesses disappeared.
My eyes narrowed.
“Influence buying.”
“Possibly.”
“Not possibly.”
I looked at him.
“Find the connection.”
Daniel nodded.
“That’s why I’m here.”
At the same time…
Inside the Prescott mansion, Margaret Prescott was no longer smiling.
The marble floors reflected her footsteps as she walked through the massive living room.
Everything around her represented victory.
Expensive paintings.
Rare furniture.
Family photographs with powerful people.
A life built to prove one thing:
The Prescotts mattered.
But now one woman threatened everything.
Victoria Hart.
Margaret picked up her phone.
“Where are we?”
The voice on the other end answered immediately.
“The media statement is working. Most outlets are presenting it as a family dispute.”
“Most?”
A pause.
“One reporter is asking questions.”
“Who?”
“Laura Bennett.”
Margaret’s expression changed.
The name mattered.
Laura Bennett was not someone who accepted carefully prepared stories.
She was an investigative journalist.
The kind of person wealthy families hated.
“Handle it.”
A silence.
“Mrs. Prescott…”
Margaret stopped walking.
“What?”
“The Colonel is involved.”
“And?”
“She’s not like the others.”
Margaret smiled coldly.
“Everyone has a weakness.”
She looked at a photograph on the wall.
Her family.
Her legacy.
“Find hers.”
Emily spent the next few days recovering.
Physically, she improved.
Emotionally…
That was different.
Trauma did not disappear because someone left the place where it happened.
Sometimes the prison followed you.
One evening, I found her sitting outside the hospital room window.
Watching cars move through the parking lot.
I sat beside her.
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
She gave a weak smile.
“You always said that.”
“I was usually right.”
She laughed quietly.
For a moment, she looked like my daughter again.
Then the smile disappeared.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“What if they destroy me?”
The question was so quiet I almost missed it.
I turned toward her.
“Emily.”
“They already told everyone I’m unstable.”
“They lied.”
“But people believe them.”
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because I knew something important.
The world was not always fair.
Truth did not always arrive first.
Sometimes lies ran faster.
But truth was stronger.
“Do you remember when you were ten?”
She frowned.
“What?”
“The science fair.”
A small smile appeared.
“You mean when my volcano exploded and covered the principal’s shoes?”
“Yes.”
“I was so embarrassed.”
“You wanted to quit.”
“I cried for three hours.”
“And then?”
She looked at me.
“I went back.”
“Why?”
She shrugged.
“Because you told me not to let one bad moment decide my future.”
I nodded.
“Exactly.”
I held her hand.
“This is a bad moment.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“But it is not your future.”
Two days later, Daniel called.
I knew from his voice something had changed.
“What did you find?”
A pause.
“Something big.”
I stood immediately.
“Tell me.”
“We found a former employee.”
“Of Prescott?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“Thomas Keller.”
I searched my memory.
“Keller…”
“Former security manager at the Prescott estate.”
My expression hardened.
“Why does he matter?”
“Because he left suddenly three months ago.”
“Why?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Because he tried to report something.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“What?”
“He said there were cameras inside areas of the guest house.”
Silence.
I felt anger rise.
Not explosive.
Controlled.
The kind of anger that sharpened focus.
“Cameras?”
“Yes.”
“Find him.”
“I already did.”
“And?”
“He’s scared.”
“Everyone is scared.”
Daniel was quiet.
Then:
“He said something interesting.”
“What?”
“He said the Prescotts don’t just control people with money.”
A pause.
“They control them with secrets.”
That night, the first crack appeared.
Not a rumor.
Not speculation.
A crack.
A small one.
But enough.
A local news station published a story.
FORMER PRESCOTT EMPLOYEE QUESTIONS FAMILY’S ACCOUNT OF HART INCIDENT
The article did not accuse.
It did not exaggerate.
It simply asked questions.
And questions were dangerous.
Because once people started asking…
Power began to shake.
The Prescott mansion was silent.
Margaret watched the news report from her private office.
Ethan stood behind her.
“What are we going to do?”
For the first time in his life…
His mother did not immediately answer.
That scared him more than anything.
“Mom?”
Margaret looked at him.
“Your wife’s mother is smarter than we expected.”
Ethan swallowed.
“You said she would back down.”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
“I was wrong.”
The words felt impossible coming from her.
Margaret Prescott admitting she was wrong.
Never happened.
Not once.
“She’s not fighting emotionally,” Margaret said.
“She’s planning.”
Ethan looked nervous.
“What does that mean?”
Margaret walked toward the window.
Outside, their estate stretched across acres of perfect land.
A symbol of everything they had built.
“She thinks this is about Emily.”
A cold smile appeared.
“But she doesn’t understand.”
“What?”
“This has never been about Emily.”
Ethan looked confused.
“Then what is it about?”
Margaret turned.
“It’s about power.”
The next morning, I received an envelope.
No return address.
No sender.
Inside was a single photograph.
A photograph of Emily.
Taken secretly.
At the Prescott estate.
The back contained three words.
STOP OR LOSE EVERYTHING.
I stared at it.
Then slowly placed it on the table.
Daniel looked at me.
“They’re escalating.”
“Yes.”
“Are you scared?”
I looked at the photograph.
Then at him.
“No.”
“Then what?”
I picked up my phone.
“I’m angry.”
Daniel nodded.
Because he knew.
Anger was dangerous.
But controlled anger?
That was something else.
I dialed Detective Mitchell.
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
I looked at the photograph.
“The Prescott family just made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
I answered:
“They threatened my daughter again.”
And that was the moment the war changed.
Because before…
I was trying to protect Emily.
Now?
I was going after everyone who thought they could hurt her.
The Prescott empire had cracks.
And I was about to find out…
May you like
How deep they went.
END OF CHAPTER 3
