Chapter 5 - The Will Under the Floorboards
Eleanor Blackwood lived in a limestone mansion on Chicago’s Gold Coast and treated emotional warmth like an infectious disease.
She was sixty-three, elegant, terrifyingly composed, and one of the few people Ethan still behaved like a son around.
When we arrived, she was drinking tea.
No lawyers.
No guards.
No visible panic.
Ethan placed the flight record on the table.
“You helped Lucas escape.”
Eleanor looked at it.
“Yes.”
I blinked.
Ethan did too.
He clearly expected denial.
“Why?”
“Because he called me.”
“And?”
“He was terrified.”
“He helped plan my murder.”
“He is still my son.”
Ethan’s voice changed.
“So am I.”
Something flickered across her face.
Pain.
Gone almost immediately.
“I know.”
“Did you know what he was doing?”
“No.”
“Did you know about Victor?”
“No.”
“Did you know Father was murdered?”
Eleanor’s hand froze around the teacup.
That reaction was real.
“What?”
Ethan watched her carefully.
“Richard was poisoned.”
Her face lost color.
For the first time since I had known her, Eleanor Blackwood looked old.
She put the cup down.
“Victor.”
Not a question.
Ethan frowned.
“You suspected him?”
Eleanor stood.
“Come with me.”
She led us upstairs to Richard’s old private library.
The room had been untouched for years.
Eleanor crossed to a bookcase and removed three books.
Behind them was a small key.
Then she knelt beside the fireplace.
“Your father became paranoid during the last year of his life.”
She inserted the key into a nearly invisible lock in the wooden floor.
A section lifted.
Inside was a metal box.
Ethan stared.
“You knew this was here?”
“I knew there was a compartment. Richard told me to open it if anything ever happened to him.”
“You never did?”
Eleanor looked at him.
“Your father died of heart failure. Or so I believed.”
Ethan’s anger surfaced.
“He told you to open it if anything happened.”
“He also spent the final months of his life suspicious of everyone, including me.”
She pushed the box toward him.
“I was afraid of what I would find.”
Ethan opened it.
Inside were letters.
Ledgers.
A voice recorder.
And a sealed envelope with Ethan’s name.
His hands slowed.
He opened the letter.
My son,
If you are reading this, I was probably right to be afraid.
Victor has been stealing from the family companies for years. I confronted him. He denied it, but I have enough records to prove it.
Lucas is involved.
I do not know how deeply.
I made mistakes raising both of you. I taught you that power mattered more than trust, and now I am watching that lesson destroy our family.
Do not trust the estate amendment Victor prepared.
Do not sign anything related to succession without Daniel Shaw reviewing it personally.
And Ethan—
Your greatest weakness is not your anger.
It is your certainty.
You decide what is true too quickly.
One day, someone will use that against you.
Trust slowly.
But when you find someone who tells you the truth even when it costs them, do not throw that person away.
Ethan stopped reading.
His eyes lifted toward me.
I looked away.
Eleanor noticed.
Of course she noticed.
The final pages contained evidence proving Richard intended to remove Victor from every Blackwood company.
There was also a newer will.
One never filed after Richard’s death.
Daniel examined it that afternoon.
“This changes everything.”
Under the valid original estate plan, Lucas had no automatic claim to control.
Victor’s later amendments relied on documents that appeared to contain forged signatures.
If proven, the succession structure they had built could collapse.
More importantly, Richard’s records documented transfers linking Victor to the stolen money.
We finally had enough evidence for prosecutors to move aggressively.
Federal agents raided three Victor-controlled offices the following morning.
Two executives were arrested.
Victor remained missing.
Then Lucas called Ethan.
No distortion.
No intermediary.
His real voice.
“I want to come home.”
Ethan put the phone on speaker.
“Then come home.”
“I need protection.”
“From me?”
“From Victor.”
Ethan’s mouth hardened.
“Where are you?”
“Not until you promise.”
“You planned to kill me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You helped.”
“I thought Victor was going to force you out, not kill you.”
Vanessa had said almost the same thing.
Apparently everyone involved in attempted murder had misunderstood the assignment.
Lucas continued.
“When Vanessa got pregnant, Victor changed the plan.”
“How?”
“He wanted the baby recognized before birth. Then he wanted you dead.”
“And you stayed involved.”
“I tried to leave.”
“After sleeping with Vanessa and helping her lie to me.”
Silence.
Then Lucas said, “I have evidence against Victor.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that puts him away forever.”
Daniel wrote a note.
GET LOCATION.
Ethan kept Lucas talking.
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
For once, Lucas sounded honest.
“But Victor is going to kill Mom.”
Ethan went still.
Eleanor, sitting across the room, looked up.
“What?”
Lucas continued.
“He thinks she has Dad’s records.”
Ethan glanced at the metal box.
“How does he know?”
“Because Mom called one of Victor’s old attorneys after you left her house.”
Eleanor’s face changed.
“I called Charles because I wanted to know whether Richard had ever changed his will.”
Ethan swore.
Lucas said, “Victor monitors Charles.”
Marcus was already moving.
Ethan turned toward his mother.
“You’re staying here.”
Eleanor lifted her chin.
“This is my house.”
“Not tonight.”
Security moved Eleanor to the Blackwood mansion.
It was the first time she had stayed there since our wedding.
She found the sofa missing.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Where is the Italian sofa?”
“I took it in the divorce.”
She looked at Ethan.
“You let her take the Bellini?”
Ethan sighed.
“Mother.”
“I liked that sofa.”
“So did I.”
For a moment, despite everything, Eleanor almost smiled at me.
Then the front gate alarm activated.
Everyone froze.
Marcus checked the monitors.
A car had stopped outside.
One person stepped out.
Lucas.
He raised both hands.
Ethan stared at the screen.
His younger brother looked exhausted.
Bruised.
Terrified.
And alive.
Marcus brought him inside after searching him.
The moment Lucas entered the study, Ethan punched him.
Hard.
Lucas hit the floor.
Eleanor gasped.
“Ethan!”
“He deserved that.”
Lucas touched his bleeding lip.
“I did.”
That answer prevented a second punch.
Barely.
Lucas gave us everything.
Victor had ordered Richard’s poisoning.
Lucas knew afterward but kept silent.
He helped forge corporate documents.
He recruited Vanessa because he believed she would help them gain temporary control of the empire.
But he claimed he did not understand Victor’s full plan until Vanessa became pregnant.
“Then why sleep with her?” I asked.
Lucas looked ashamed.
“That started before the plan.”
“How convenient.”
“It wasn’t supposed to become this.”
“Babies frequently happen when people behave stupidly.”
Ethan gave me a look.
Lucas almost laughed.
Then stopped when Ethan looked at him.
The most important evidence was stored in an encrypted account containing recordings Victor had made himself.
Lucas had the access key.
Daniel verified several files.
Enough to destroy Victor.
But there was one problem.
The server required a physical authentication device.
Victor had it.
And Victor was no longer running.
He was coming back to Chicago.
Lucas knew because Victor had contacted him.
“He wants Dad’s box,” Lucas said.
Ethan leaned forward.
“Then we give him what he wants.”
I stared.
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
Ethan’s voice remained calm.
“Claire.”
“You are not using yourself as bait.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
“I was planning to use the box.”
“That’s better.”
“And Victor thinks you have it.”
I stared.
“That’s worse.”
Ethan immediately looked guilty.
Which meant I was right.
“When did he decide I have it?”
Lucas answered.
“Victor assumes Ethan trusts you with financial documents.”
Ethan and I looked at each other.
Technically, he did.
That realization made my chest tighten.
A plan formed.
A dangerous one.
We would leak information that Richard’s original records were being moved to a private bank vault.
Victor would try to intercept them.
Federal agents could arrest him.
Simple.
Except nothing involving the Blackwoods remained simple for long.
The transfer was scheduled for Friday morning.
On Thursday night, I woke to the smell of smoke.
At first, I thought I was dreaming.
Then the alarm screamed.
I ran into the hallway.
Flames climbed the east staircase.
Someone shouted downstairs.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Ethan appeared through the smoke.
“Claire!”
He reached me and pulled me toward the rear stairs.
“What happened?”
“Attack.”
“Victor?”
“Yes.”
We reached the landing.
A window shattered.
Ethan pushed me down.
Glass sprayed over us.
Then he jerked.
I heard the sound before I understood it.
A gunshot.
Ethan looked at me.
His hand moved to his side.
Blood spread through his shirt.
“Ethan.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Claire, move.”
He tried to stand.
His knees buckled.
For three years, Ethan Blackwood had seemed indestructible.
That night, with his blood on my hands and his mansion burning around us, I finally understood something terrifying.
I could survive losing his money.
His name.
His house.
May you like
Even our marriage.
But I did not know whether I could survive losing him.
