Chapter 4 - The Five-Year-Old Twins Had Inherited Something Valuable, and Someone Had Been Watching Them Since the Day They Were BornI returned to the hospital.
Juny and Blythe were asleep.
I watched them through the glass.
Two little girls.
Five years old.
No idea what had been happening around them.
No idea that powerful adults had destroyed their home.
No idea that people might consider them valuable.
The twins had inherited something.
What?
I examined Daniel's financial records again.
One reference repeated.
B-17.
I searched the old company archives.
B-17 referred to a private trust.
Beacon Trust Number Seventeen.
The trust had been created twenty years earlier.
Beneficiaries:
Juny Alvarez.
Blythe Alvarez.
Equal shares.
The current value?
$47 million.
I stared.
The girls were heirs.
But who had created the trust?
My father.
Why?
I searched the original documents.
The trust had been established before the girls were born.
That meant my father knew something about them.
Maybe he had known Daniel.
Maybe he knew Marina.
Maybe he had anticipated what would happen.
Then I discovered a sealed letter.
To be opened when the twins turn eighteen.
I didn't know what was inside.
The legal system required multiple trustees.
My father's lawyers.
Waverly's board.
And one beneficiary guardian.
That guardian was—
me.
I sat back.
I was responsible for their trust.
Without knowing it.
Someone had tried to remove the girls from their home.
If they had died or disappeared, the trust would have changed.
The beneficiary structure would have been altered.
Who gained?
I checked.
A secondary beneficiary.
Waverly Urban Group.
My company.
The plan was clear.
If the girls disappeared, control of the trust returned to my company.
And someone could access almost fifty million dollars.
I felt sick.
The girls weren't being punished.
They were being removed.
For money.
But the criminal part was much larger.
The trust also contained information.
A secret list of properties.
Political connections.
Financial accounts.
It was an insurance policy my father had created.
Someone wanted it.
And the girls stood between them and the money.
I called my legal team.
“Freeze the trust.”
“We cannot.”
“Why?”
“There is a clause.”
“What clause?”
“The trust can only be frozen if the beneficiaries are in physical danger.”
I looked at the hospital.
“They are.”
“That would require evidence.”
I sent the eviction records.
Medical reports.
Threatening messages.
Security footage.
Silence.
Then:
“We can freeze it.”
I gave the order.
The trust was secured.
Five minutes later, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
“You should not have done that.”
I recognized the voice.
Thomas Gray.
“You've been watching the girls.”
“We've been protecting the company.”
“You destroyed their home.”
“Necessary.”
“You almost killed their mother.”
“We didn't.”
“Then who?”
Silence.
“Who?”
He said:
“You don't understand who owns Waverly.”
I looked at my company logo.
“I do.”
“No.”
He laughed.
“You own the name.”
“What does that mean?”
“The person controlling the company isn't you.”
I froze.
“Who?”
“Look at the board.”
The call ended.
I immediately called an emergency board meeting.
Every director attended.
Except one.
My chief operating officer, Elliot Crane.
He claimed illness.
I checked his travel records.
He was on a flight to Zurich.
I looked at the board list.
Elliot had voted on every Waverly Court acquisition.
Then I found something.
His signature matched the authorization.
Not mine.
Someone had copied my digital identity.
But Elliot had the technology access required.
The company that had destroyed Marina's life belonged to me.
May you like
But perhaps I had never truly controlled it.
That realization frightened me more than anything.
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