Chapter 7 — The Man Behind the Boardroom
Chapter 7 — The Man Behind the Boardroom
The photograph was still open on my phone when the lights in my mother's office suddenly flickered.
I stared at the screen.
My father.
Alive.
Standing beside my mother.
Three days before she died.
I had spent nine years believing the man in that photograph was buried beneath a marble headstone.
Now I was staring at his face.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakably him.
Richard Vale.
My father.
The man I had mourned at nineteen.
The man whose death had supposedly shattered my family.
The man whose absence had shaped every decision I had made since.
My hands trembled.
Then another message appeared.
Don't trust the board.
A second followed.
The man behind them knows you're back.
I looked toward the closed office door.
Something about the wording disturbed me.
Not one of the board members.
Not Preston.
The man behind the board.
Someone else was controlling them.
Someone higher.
Someone I hadn't identified.
I quickly saved the photograph.
Then deleted the messages.
I wasn't sure whether that would help.
But I knew one thing.
If someone could send me a photograph that my family had hidden for nine years, they could probably see everything I was doing.
I walked to the window.
Below me, Solmere glittered beneath the night sky.
Thousands of people moved through the lobby.
Guests.
Employees.
Security.
People who had no idea their hotel was at the center of a war.
I looked at the building opposite mine.
There.
On the twenty-sixth floor.
A single light was on.
I zoomed in.
A man stood behind the glass.
Watching Solmere.
Watching me.
Then the light went out.
My phone buzzed.
This time, it was Marcus.
We need to talk. Now.
I stared at the message.
My mother's warning returned.
Do not trust Marcus Reed.
But another thought followed.
If Marcus was part of the conspiracy, why had he spent years protecting me?
Maybe he wasn't my enemy.
Maybe he was simply hiding something.
And I needed to know what.
I found Marcus in the underground parking garage.
He stood beside his black SUV.
When I approached, he looked at me.
“You saw the photograph.”
I stopped.
“How do you know?”
“Because I sent it.”
I stared.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Your mother.”
“She gave it to you?”
“Not directly.”
“Then explain.”
Marcus opened the driver's door.
“Get in.”
“No.”
He sighed.
“Charlotte.”
“I've spent the last twenty-four hours discovering that everyone around me has been lying.”
“I know.”
“So I'm done getting into cars with people who refuse to explain themselves.”
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then he pulled a small envelope from his jacket.
He handed it to me.
“Your mother gave me this nine years ago.”
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My father again.
But this time, he wasn't standing beside my mother.
He was standing beside Marcus.
Both men were outside a military-style warehouse.
On the back:
If Charlotte ever discovers the truth, give her this.
I looked at Marcus.
“You knew my father was alive.”
“I knew he survived the accident.”
My heart stopped.
“Survived?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
“You worked for him.”
“Yes.”
“You worked for my mother.”
“Yes.”
“You knew they were together three days before she died.”
Marcus looked at me.
“Yes.”
I felt betrayed.
“You knew all of this and watched me believe he was dead?”
“Your mother ordered me to.”
“You let me grieve him.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe he abandoned me.”
“I had no choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
His expression hardened.
“Not when your mother puts a gun on the table and tells you the next person who knows the truth will be killed.”
I froze.
“What?”
Marcus looked away.
“She was trying to protect you.”
“By lying to me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your father was being hunted.”
“By whom?”
“The board.”
I stared at him.
“All of them?”
“No.”
Marcus looked directly at me.
“Not the board.”
“Then who?”
“The man behind it.”
We drove through the city.
Marcus didn't tell me where we were going.
I watched the streets pass outside.
Finally, I asked:
“Who is he?”
Marcus remained silent.
“Marcus.”
“You're not ready.”
“I've been ready for nine years.”
He glanced at me.
“No.”
“You don't get to decide that.”
“You think this is about money.”
“It isn't?”
“No.”
He turned onto a private road.
“This is about control.”
We stopped outside an old building.
There was no sign.
No security desk.
No visible entrance.
Marcus unlocked a steel door.
Inside was a small room filled with surveillance monitors.
I stared.
“What is this?”
“Your father's old intelligence office.”
I looked at him.
“He had one?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Solmere wasn't just a hotel company.”
I turned toward him.
“What was it?”
Marcus hesitated.
“A network.”
“What kind?”
“Private assets. Political connections. Security contracts. International investments.”
I stared at the monitors.
“My father was running all of this?”
“Yes.”
“And my mother?”
“She managed the legitimate side.”
“While he handled the rest?”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
My parents weren't the people I remembered.
Or perhaps I had never truly known them.
Marcus walked to a locked cabinet.
He opened it.
Inside were files.
One was labeled:
BOARD CONTROL
Another:
STERLING
Another:
PRESTON VALE
And the last one was simply:
THE MAN
I pointed.
“That's him.”
Marcus nodded.
I opened it.
The first page was blank.
The second contained a photograph.
I recognized the face.
And my blood went cold.
I had seen him before.
Not in photographs.
Not in old family records.
In person.
At my mother's funeral.
He had stood behind Preston.
I had thought he was another board member.
His name was written beneath the photograph.
Nathaniel Cross.
Adrian Cross's father.
My stomach dropped.
“Adrian's father?”
“Yes.”
“He's dead.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“When did he die?”
“He didn't.”
“Then why does everyone say he did?”
“Because he wanted people to.”
I turned the page.
There were financial records.
Shell companies.
Offshore trusts.
Political donations.
Acquisitions.
Every trail led back to Nathaniel.
I flipped through them.
Then I found something else.
A list of names.
My father.
My mother.
Preston.
Vivian's father.
Adrian.
Marcus.
Thomas.
And at the bottom:
CHARLOTTE VALE — FINAL SUCCESSION TARGET
My blood ran cold.
“What is a succession target?”
Marcus looked at me.
“The person who must control the company when the previous generation is removed.”
“Removed?”
“Dead, discredited, or forced out.”
I stared.
“So my parents were targets.”
“Yes.”
“And I was next.”
“Yes.”
I looked at the date.
The file had been created eleven years ago.
I was only eighteen.
They had been planning this before my father died.
Before I even knew what Solmere was.
I turned another page.
A corporate chart showed Nathaniel at the center.
Around him were Adrian.
Preston.
Vivian's father.
Three board members.
Several lawyers.
Two banks.
One security company.
And one name that made me stop.
Marcus Reed.
I looked up.
“You were part of it.”
Marcus didn't deny it.
“Yes.”
My heart sank.
“You worked for Nathaniel.”
“I did.”
“How long?”
“Four years.”
“Why?”
“To protect your father.”
“You worked for the man trying to destroy him.”
“At first, I didn't know.”
“And when you found out?”
“I tried to leave.”
“What happened?”
Marcus rolled up his sleeve.
A scar ran along his forearm.
“He had me shot.”
I stared.
“He missed?”
“No.”
I looked at the scar.
“Then how are you alive?”
“Your father saved me.”
Silence.
I slowly sat down.
My father.
Again.
Always my father.
A dead man who apparently wasn't dead.
A ghost who kept appearing in every secret I uncovered.
“What happened after that?”
“My father disappeared,” Marcus said.
“My father.”
“Yes.”
“He left you?”
“He told me to protect you.”
“Why didn't he come back?”
Marcus looked at the floor.
“Because he believed everyone close to him was compromised.”
I remembered the photograph.
My mother.
My father.
Three days before her death.
“Then why did they meet?”
Marcus looked at me.
“They were planning to expose Nathaniel.”
My heart raced.
“They had proof?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“They were betrayed.”
“By whom?”
Marcus didn't answer.
“Who?”
He finally said:
“Preston.”
I stood.
“My uncle?”
“Yes.”
“He betrayed them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Money.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Everyone betrays everyone for money.”
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
“What?”
“Preston wasn't paid.”
“Then why?”
“Because Nathaniel promised him control.”
“Control of Solmere?”
“Control of everything.”
I stared at the board chart.
Then something clicked.
“The account.”
Marcus looked at me.
“The $126 million.”
“Yes.”
“That's not money my mother hid.”
“No.”
“It was money Nathaniel paid Preston.”
Marcus nodded.
“But your mother intercepted it.”
“She put it into my account.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To create a record.”
I looked at the transaction history.
Every payment.
Every shell company.
Every hidden transfer.
My mother hadn't stolen the money.
She had trapped them with it.
She had turned their own payments into evidence.
I smiled.
“That's brilliant.”
Marcus nodded.
“Your mother was smarter than all of them.”
I looked at the files.
“Then why did she die?”
Marcus didn't answer.
“Marcus.”
“She trusted someone.”
“Who?”
He stared at the floor.
“Thomas.”
My heart stopped.
“Thomas?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“He was the one who gave Nathaniel access to the security system.”
I shook my head.
“Thomas has been helping me.”
“Because your mother ordered him to.”
“Then why betray her?”
“He didn't intend to.”
“What happened?”
Marcus looked at me.
“He was forced.”
“By Nathaniel?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Marcus's face hardened.
“His daughter.”
I froze.
“What about her?”
“They had her.”
I felt cold.
“She's alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“That's what Nathaniel used to control him.”
I stared.
Thomas hadn't betrayed my mother because he wanted money.
He had been threatened.
And yet...
something still didn't fit.
If Nathaniel controlled Thomas through his daughter, why had my mother trusted him with the charter?
Unless she knew.
Unless she had planned for the betrayal.
I looked at the file again.
There was a handwritten note in the margin.
My mother's handwriting.
Thomas will betray us. Let him.
I stared.
“Mom knew.”
Marcus nodded.
“She knew everything.”
“Then what was she planning?”
Marcus looked at me.
“She was planning to make Nathaniel believe he had won.”
The next morning, I returned to Solmere.
The board had scheduled an emergency meeting.
I walked into the boardroom without knocking.
Preston was there.
Adrian.
Vivian.
Three board members.
And a man I'd never seen before.
Except I had.
From the photograph.
Nathaniel Cross.
He stood at the head of the table.
Older than Adrian.
Silver hair.
Perfect suit.
Calm eyes.
He looked at me as though he'd been expecting me.
“Charlotte.”
I stopped.
“You know who I am.”
“Of course.”
“Then you know I own this company.”
He smiled.
“For now.”
I walked to the table.
“That's not your decision.”
“No.”
He folded his hands.
“It's yours.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“You have two choices.”
“I'm listening.”
“Sell Solmere.”
“No.”
“Or lose it.”
I laughed.
“You can't take it.”
He leaned back.
“We don't need to.”
“What?”
“You will surrender it yourself.”
“How?”
Nathaniel smiled.
“Because your father left you a debt.”
My blood ran cold.
“What debt?”
“Thirty-eight million dollars.”
“That's Preston's debt.”
“No.”
Nathaniel placed a folder on the table.
“It's yours.”
I opened it.
A loan agreement.
My father's signature.
The amount:
$38,000,000.
I stared.
“When was this?”
“Three weeks before his death.”
“That's impossible.”
“Is it?”
The agreement contained a clause.
If Richard Vale died before repayment, the debt transferred to his heir.
Me.
My hands trembled.
Nathaniel smiled.
“Congratulations, Charlotte.”
He pushed another document toward me.
“Your inheritance has finally arrived.”
I looked at the debt.
Then at him.
“You think I'll surrender Solmere because of thirty-eight million?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“I think you'll surrender it because you don't have the money.”
I stared at him.
Then slowly smiled.
“You're wrong.”
His expression changed.
I placed my phone on the table.
“Because I know about the account.”
Silence.
Nathaniel's smile disappeared.
“You know about the account?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My mother left it to me.”
He looked at Preston.
Preston looked terrified.
I leaned back.
“One hundred twenty-six million dollars.”
Nathaniel said nothing.
I smiled.
“And now that I know what it was used for…”
I pushed the transaction records across the table.
“…I think your company has a much bigger problem.”
Nathaniel picked up the papers.
His hands tightened.
I watched his face change.
For the first time since I had met him...
he looked afraid.
Then his eyes lifted to mine.
“You don't understand what you've started.”
I smiled.
“No.”
I stood.
“I finally understand.”
I walked toward the door.
Nathaniel called after me.
“Charlotte.”
I stopped.
“You think your mother won.”
I looked back.
“She didn't.”
“Why?”
He smiled coldly.
“Because she never told you the final truth.”
My heart tightened.
“What truth?”
Nathaniel's eyes held mine.
“Your father is alive.”
I froze.
“And he's the one who wants you dead.”
The room went silent.
Nathaniel smiled.
Then he added:
“Ask him yourself.”
My phone buzzed.
A new message.
One photograph.
A man sitting in a dark room.
My father.
Older.
Alive.
And beneath the photograph:
COME ALONE, CHARLOTTE.
WE NEED TO TALK.
I stared at the screen.
For nine years, I had wanted one thing.
To see my father again.
Now that possibility terrified me more than anything else.
May you like
Because if Nathaniel was telling the truth...
the man I had spent nine years mourning might be the man I now had to fear.
