Chapter 3 - The Dead Man Behind Hawthorne's Empire
Grant stared at the notebook.
“My father died eleven years ago.”
Caleb nodded.
“Officially.”
Lauren looked at him.
“Who told you he was alive?”
Caleb's expression tightened.
“I never met him.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because money doesn't lie.”
He pointed to a series of transfers.
“Every payment originated from an account established before your father's death.”
Grant looked at the details.
The account was still active.
“What bank?”
“Geneva.”
“Who has access?”
“That's the problem.”
Caleb pulled another document from his coat.
“Your father's trust.”
Grant read the name.
Hawthorne Legacy Trust.
He knew it.
It had been closed after his father's death.
Or so he had believed.
“Someone reopened it three years ago.”
“Who?”
Caleb looked at him.
“You.”
Grant frowned.
“I never did that.”
“Your signature did.”
Lauren took the document.
She studied it.
“It's forged.”
Grant looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Your father's old lawyer taught me his signature.”
Caleb stared.
Lauren explained.
“My mother worked for Hawthorne.”
Grant turned.
“Your mother?”
“She was your father's personal assistant.”
“You never told me.”
“She died before we met.”
Grant absorbed the information.
One more secret.
One more connection.
He suddenly understood why Lauren had recognized certain records so quickly.
Her family had been around the Hawthorne business for years.
Caleb pointed to another page.
“These payments are linked to government contracts.”
Grant frowned.
“Government contracts?”
“Defense logistics.”
Grant's jaw tightened.
Hawthorne Capital had a legitimate logistics division.
But his father had always kept certain military contracts separate.
If someone had been laundering money through those contracts, the consequences would be enormous.
“Why target me?”
Caleb looked toward Lauren.
“Because you're the last person who knows where the original records are.”
Grant looked at him.
“What records?”
Caleb smiled grimly.
“Your father left something behind.”
“Where?”
“He never told me.”
Lauren stepped closer.
“What did he leave?”
“A key.”
“To what?”
Caleb pointed at Grant.
“He said the key would only open for his son.”
Grant reached into his pocket.
He felt something hard.
The brass key he had carried since childhood.
His father had given it to him on his tenth birthday.
He had never known what it opened.
Lauren stared.
“You still have it.”
“Always.”
Caleb nodded.
“Then we know where to start.”
The next morning, they went to the old Hawthorne estate.
It had been empty for years.
Grant unlocked the gate himself.
Inside, dust covered everything.
His father's study remained untouched.
He opened the desk.
Nothing.
Then Lauren noticed the fireplace.
“Look.”
A brick was slightly darker.
Grant pressed it.
A panel opened.
Inside was a small metal box.
The key fit.
Grant inserted it.
The lock clicked.
Inside was a photograph.
His father.
Lauren's mother.
And Vivian.
All three standing together twenty years earlier.
Grant's blood ran cold.
“What is she doing here?”
Lauren picked up a handwritten note.
If Grant ever discovers the truth, trust Lauren before anyone else.
Grant looked at her.
His father had known.
He had known Lauren's family.
He had known Vivian.
He had anticipated this.
There was a second note.
The enemy is not the person who hates you. It is the person who taught you not to question them.
Grant whispered:
“Vivian.”
Behind them, footsteps sounded.
They turned.
Vivian stood in the doorway.
Alone.
Unarmed.
Calm.
“Hello, Grant.”
Grant's hand moved toward his weapon.
Vivian smiled.
“You always were quick.”
Lauren stepped forward.
“Why?”
Vivian looked at her.
“You ruined everything.”
Grant stared.
“You manipulated me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To protect the family.”
“From what?”
“Your father.”
Grant went still.
Vivian continued.
“He was going to destroy all of us.”
“My father?”
“He was laundering money.”
“He was.”
Vivian nodded.
“Yes.”
“But he wasn't doing it for himself.”
“Then who?”
She looked toward the photograph.
“For the people who controlled him.”
Grant's blood went cold.
“Who?”
Vivian smiled sadly.
“You still don't understand.”
She reached into her coat.
Grant raised his weapon.
Vivian removed a photograph.
She tossed it onto the desk.
Grant looked at it.
A meeting.
Three men.
One of them was his father.
Another was Julian Cross.
Vivian's husband.
Grant's former mentor.
Vivian whispered:
“The real mastermind died two years ago.”
Grant looked up.
“Then who?”
Vivian's eyes filled.
“Me.”
Silence.
Lauren stared.
Vivian continued.
“I took control after my husband died.”
Grant's face hardened.
“You manipulated everything.”
“Yes.”
“You framed Lauren.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you were getting too close.”
“What were you hiding?”
Vivian looked at him.
“Your father didn't die because he lost a business war.”
She took a breath.
“He died because he tried to expose the organization running this city.”
Grant stared.
“And you joined them?”
“I inherited them.”
A noise came from outside.
Cars.
Many cars.
Vivian looked toward the windows.
“They're here.”
“Who?”
“The people who don't want any of us alive.”
Grant looked at Lauren.
She took his hand.
“Together.”
They ran.
The house erupted in gunfire.
Grant pulled Lauren behind a stone wall.
Caleb returned fire.
Vivian disappeared through a side passage.
They escaped through the tunnels beneath the estate.
At the end of the tunnel, Grant turned.
“Where is Vivian?”
Lauren looked behind them.
“Gone.”
Grant's phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Vivian's voice whispered:
“Your father left more than a key.”
“What?”
“Ask your wife what her mother was protecting.”
The line went dead.
Grant slowly turned toward Lauren.
She looked frightened.
Not guilty.
Frightened.
“What aren't you telling me?”
Lauren swallowed.
“My mother left me a letter.”
“What's in it?”
She hesitated.
“She said if the truth ever came out, I was to leave you.”
Grant stared.
“Why?”
May you like
Lauren's eyes filled with tears.
“Because loving you could get you killed.”
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