Chapter 7 — The Contract in Marcus's Name
Chapter 7 — The Contract in Marcus's Name
The contract had been signed before Marcus was old enough to write his own name.
That was the first thing Gabriel told him.
The second was worse.
Marcus had never actually owned his empire.
Not completely.
Not legally.
And not in the way he had believed for most of his adult life.
The document that proved it had been hidden for twenty-eight years.
It was written in his father's handwriting.
And at the bottom, beneath a series of signatures from men who were supposed to have been dead for decades, was one name.
Marcus Alexander Thorne.
A name belonging to a child who had never seen the paper.
The hospital corridor remained silent.
Gabriel stood several feet away from Marcus.
Victor kept his weapon raised.
Khloe was still holding the photograph.
“My mother,” she whispered.
Gabriel nodded.
“She was alive when you were born.”
Khloe looked at him.
“Where is she?”
Gabriel's expression changed.
“That is complicated.”
“No.”
Khloe's voice strengthened.
“You don't get to tell me my mother is alive and then say it's complicated.”
Gabriel looked at Marcus.
“She has spent twenty-eight years hiding.”
“From whom?”
“From the same people who destroyed Adrian.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“And you?”
Gabriel smiled bitterly.
“I was never hiding.”
“Then why did everyone think you were dead?”
“Because it was safer for everyone if they did.”
Victor lowered his weapon slightly.
“What happened to Marcus's parents?”
Gabriel looked at him.
“Your father discovered the contract.”
Marcus's face tightened.
“What contract?”
“The one that owns your name.”
Gabriel took a sealed envelope from inside his coat.
He placed it on the floor.
Nobody moved.
“Open it.”
Marcus looked at Victor.
Victor nodded.
Marcus bent down.
He picked up the envelope.
It was old.
The paper had yellowed.
The seal carried the crest of the Thorne family.
Marcus broke it.
Inside was a contract.
Twenty-nine pages.
His father's signature appeared on the first page.
So did another name.
Gabriel Vale.
Marcus's eyes moved across the page.
Then stopped.
There was a clause written in bold.
Upon the birth of the first male heir, controlling authority over all assets placed within the Thorne-Vale Trust shall transfer to the appointed trustees until the heir reaches thirty-five years of age.
Marcus frowned.
“I turned thirty-five last year.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Exactly.”
Marcus looked up.
“What happens at thirty-five?”
Gabriel's expression became grim.
“The trust becomes yours.”
Marcus stared at the document.
“Then why are you saying I don't own my empire?”
“Because the trust doesn't only contain assets.”
“What else?”
Gabriel pointed to the final page.
“Obligations.”
Marcus turned the pages faster.
There were clauses concerning debt.
Corporate liability.
Confidentiality.
Inheritance.
Then one paragraph made his blood run cold.
The heir shall assume responsibility for all outstanding obligations associated with the trust, regardless of whether such obligations were incurred before his legal majority.
Marcus looked at Victor.
“What does that mean?”
Victor read it.
His expression hardened.
“It means whoever controls the trust can place liabilities inside it.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Exactly.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Who controlled it?”
“Your father.”
“Before him?”
“Your grandfather.”
Marcus stared at the document.
“And now?”
Gabriel pointed to the signature line.
“Now you.”
Khloe stepped closer.
“Why would anyone create a contract like this?”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Because your families weren't building businesses.”
“What were they building?”
“Protection.”
“For what?”
Gabriel's answer was quiet.
“Crimes.”
Marcus felt his stomach turn.
“Adrian found this.”
“Yes.”
“He discovered the trust.”
“Yes.”
“And that's why they tried to kill him.”
Gabriel nodded.
“He discovered that the Thorne empire had been used for illegal operations for decades.”
Marcus shook his head.
“My father would never—”
Gabriel interrupted.
“Your father tried to stop it.”
Silence.
“He inherited the system.”
“And tried to destroy it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't he?”
“Because he discovered the contract too late.”
Marcus looked down.
“Who wrote it?”
Gabriel's expression became unreadable.
“Your grandfather.”
Marcus whispered:
“And who was the trustee?”
Gabriel looked at him.
“Your grandfather.”
The implication struck Marcus immediately.
“My grandfather controlled everything.”
“Yes.”
“He controlled my father's company.”
“Yes.”
“My inheritance.”
“Yes.”
“My mother's disappearance.”
Gabriel didn't answer.
Marcus stepped closer.
“Did he order my father killed?”
Gabriel remained silent.
Marcus grabbed his jacket.
“Answer me.”
Victor moved between them.
“Marcus.”
Gabriel finally spoke.
“Your grandfather didn't pull the trigger.”
Marcus froze.
“But he ordered it.”
Gabriel nodded.
“Yes.”
Khloe looked at the contract.
“Why would he want Marcus's father dead?”
“Because your husband discovered what happened to the women.”
Khloe's eyes narrowed.
“My mother?”
“And Marcus's.”
“What happened to them?”
Gabriel looked at the hospital windows.
“They were witnesses.”
“To what?”
“The original agreement.”
Twenty-eight years earlier, two women had discovered that their husbands were using the family trust to move money through international companies.
They tried to expose it.
They failed.
Instead, they were threatened.
Elena Thorne disappeared.
Khloe's mother was forced into hiding.
The men who helped them were killed.
One of those men was Adrian's father.
Another was Lucia Rossi's brother.
And one was Gabriel.
Except Gabriel had survived.
He had spent years collecting evidence.
Waiting.
Watching.
Protecting the people he could still save.
“Why didn't you come to Marcus?”
Gabriel looked at him.
“I did.”
Marcus frowned.
“When?”
“Several times.”
“I don't remember.”
“You weren't supposed to.”
Gabriel's voice softened.
“Your father made sure you remembered me as a stranger.”
“Why?”
“Because if you knew who I was, they would have killed you.”
Marcus stared at him.
“You were protecting me?”
“Yes.”
“By disappearing?”
“Yes.”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“You call that protection?”
Gabriel looked away.
“No.”
His voice cracked.
“I call it survival.”
At that moment, Detective Ruiz entered the room.
She stopped when she saw Gabriel.
“You.”
Gabriel looked at her.
“Detective.”
Ruiz reached for her weapon.
“Gabriel Vale, you're under arrest.”
Gabriel didn't move.
“For what?”
“Fraud.”
“Which one?”
“Murder.”
“Which one?”
Ruiz froze.
Gabriel smiled sadly.
“You've been investigating the wrong man for six years.”
Ruiz looked at Marcus.
“What is happening?”
Marcus handed her the contract.
She read it.
Her expression changed.
“This is real.”
Gabriel nodded.
“And it's only the beginning.”
Later that night, forensic accountants began examining the trust.
They discovered hundreds of shell companies.
Accounts in Switzerland.
Panama.
Mexico.
Singapore.
The transactions stretched back thirty-one years.
But one account stood out.
It had been opened shortly before Marcus was born.
The beneficiary was listed as:
MARCUS ALEXANDER THORNE.
The account had never been touched.
Until three months earlier.
A withdrawal had been made.
Forty million dollars.
Marcus stared at the record.
“I didn't authorize this.”
Victor shook his head.
“You couldn't have.”
“Who did?”
The accountant pointed to the authorization.
Marcus's signature appeared.
Perfect.
Identical.
But Marcus had never signed it.
Someone had forged his signature.
And whoever had done it had used the same authorization code assigned to him at birth.
Marcus stared at the screen.
“That's impossible.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“No.”
Marcus looked at him.
“What?”
Gabriel pointed to the contract.
“The code belongs to the trustee.”
“Who?”
“Your grandfather.”
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“My grandfather is dead.”
Gabriel looked at him.
“Is he?”
At 11:45 p.m., the hospital lost power.
The backup generators started.
Then stopped.
Emergency lights flickered.
Victor immediately pulled Marcus away from the windows.
“Stay down.”
A gunshot cracked somewhere in the corridor.
Khloe screamed.
Security rushed toward the room.
Another shot.
Then silence.
Victor opened the door carefully.
A man lay unconscious near the elevator.
Beside him was a black briefcase.
Inside:
A passport.
Cash.
A pistol.
And a single photograph.
Marcus picked it up.
The photograph showed an elderly man sitting in a wheelchair.
The man's face was partially hidden.
But Marcus recognized him.
His grandfather.
On the back, someone had written:
HE NEVER DIED.
Marcus's hands began to shake.
Gabriel looked at the photograph.
His face went pale.
“Where did you get this?”
“The briefcase.”
Gabriel stared at it.
“This changes everything.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Why?”
Gabriel whispered:
“Because if he's alive…”
He looked toward Khloe.
“…then your mother's life is in immediate danger.”
Khloe stood.
“Where is she?”
Gabriel hesitated.
Then gave her an address.
Khloe stared.
“You know where my mother is?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because she asked me not to.”
Khloe's eyes filled.
“You knew I spent twenty-eight years thinking she abandoned me.”
Gabriel lowered his head.
“I know.”
“You let me hate her.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
Khloe shook her head.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
She looked at Marcus.
“Everyone keeps deciding what we're allowed to know.”
Marcus took her hand.
“No more.”
The next morning, Marcus gathered everyone in the hospital conference room.
Victor.
Khloe.
Detective Ruiz.
Gabriel.
And the forensic accountant.
Marcus placed the contract in the center of the table.
“This ends now.”
Victor nodded.
The accountant opened the financial records.
“We found the forty-million-dollar withdrawal.”
Marcus looked at Gabriel.
“Where did the money go?”
Gabriel stared at the screen.
Then his face changed.
“That's not possible.”
“What?”
“The money went to a hospital.”
“Which hospital?”
Gabriel looked at Khloe.
“The hospital we're standing in.”
Silence.
Marcus stared at the screen.
“What was it used for?”
The accountant opened the transaction notes.
Then froze.
“I think you need to see this.”
Marcus leaned forward.
The payment description contained only one phrase.
PROJECT HEIR — MEDICAL SURVEILLANCE.
Khloe's hand moved instinctively toward her stomach.
Marcus looked at her.
Then at Victor.
Then at Gabriel.
Someone had been monitoring Khloe's pregnancy.
Not since the attack.
Not since she came to the hospital.
Since before she ever knew she was pregnant.
Marcus's voice became cold.
“How long?”
The accountant checked the earliest transaction.
“Seven months.”
Khloe stared.
“That was before we came here.”
“Yes.”
Marcus stood.
“Who ordered it?”
The accountant opened the authorization.
A name appeared.
M. THORNE.
Marcus stared.
His own name.
Again.
Then a second line appeared beneath it.
TRUSTEE AUTHORIZATION: GABRIEL VALE.
Everyone turned toward Gabriel.
He looked at the screen.
His face went completely white.
“I didn't authorize that.”
Marcus stared at him.
“Then someone is using your identity too.”
Gabriel slowly nodded.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Gabriel looked at the contract.
Then at Marcus.
And finally at Khloe.
“I think I know.”
“Who?”
Gabriel's voice barely carried across the room.
“The man who wrote the contract.”
Marcus's grandfather.
The man everyone believed was dead.
The man whose name controlled the trust.
The man who had been watching Khloe's pregnancy for seven months.
The man who had somehow forged Marcus's signature.
Gabriel looked at Marcus.
“He isn't trying to steal your empire.”
Marcus's expression hardened.
“Then what does he want?”
Gabriel answered:
“Your child.”
The room went silent.
And somewhere deep inside the hospital, a phone began ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Nobody moved.
Then the forensic accountant looked at the caller ID.
It displayed a name that should not have been possible.
ALEXANDER THORNE.
Marcus's dead grandfather.
May you like
The man who had supposedly been buried twenty-eight years ago.
The phone continued ringing.
