Chapter 2 - THE SECRET FORTUNE BEHIND HIS FAILING EMPIRE
I was sitting in Augustus Sutherland's library when Victoria Strand called to tell me Preston had accepted the invitation to the gala.
The grandfather clock beside the fireplace had just struck seven.
Outside, rain moved across the dark lawns of the Great Falls estate.
"He's bringing Sabrina," Victoria said.
I looked down at the ultrasound photograph resting beside my laptop.
"Of course he is."
"He's also requested a private meeting with you before the speeches."
"With me?"
"With Altair's managing director. He still doesn't know who's behind the fund."
I leaned back.
"What does he want?"
"Forty million dollars in emergency financing. He claims he has evidence of illegal transfers through one of our investment subsidiaries."
I almost laughed.
Preston had spent four years telling me that financial markets were too complicated for someone who had never attended business school.
He liked explaining investment strategies over dinner.
He enjoyed correcting me in front of his friends.
Once, at a charity auction, he'd introduced me to a banking executive as his beautiful wife who knew absolutely nothing about money.
I'd smiled.
I hadn't told him that the executive's bank was negotiating a credit facility with one of my companies.
Now Preston was trying to blackmail the very woman who had built the financial structure keeping his business alive.
"Did he send the documents?" I asked.
"Three pages. They're fabricated, but the account numbers correspond to an actual dormant subsidiary."
"How did he get those numbers?"
Victoria hesitated.
"That's what concerns me."
I straightened.
"Victoria."
"We believe someone inside Lyle Holdings has been accessing confidential financing records. Preston may have been doing more than searching for leverage."
I stared at the rain.
"How much more?"
"We've identified transfers to a medical consulting company called Bellweather Clinical Services."
The name meant nothing to me.
"How much?"
"Just over six million dollars during the past eighteen months."
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"What does Bellweather do?"
"Officially, private medical consulting and executive wellness."
I already knew what she was going to say.
"Who owns it?"
"Dr. Nathaniel Ellison is listed as a managing member."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
I remembered the syringe.
The straps.
The way Ellison had looked at Preston before entering the examination room.
Not like a physician consulting a worried husband.
Like an employee awaiting instructions.
"Send everything to our attorneys," I said.
"Already done."
"And Victoria?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell Preston we found it."
After the call ended, I remained motionless.
My grandfather stood near the fireplace.
He had been listening.
Augustus Sutherland was seventy-eight, tall and silver-haired, with the posture of a man who had spent decades making decisions that affected thousands of employees.
He could negotiate a billion-dollar acquisition without raising his voice.
But since I'd returned to his house, I'd noticed something unfamiliar about him.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
"Reese," he said, "this is no longer a financial dispute."
"I know."
"He tried to arrange an operation that would permanently injure you."
"I know."
"And now we're finding money moving between his companies and that doctor."
I looked at him.
"Grandpa, I need you to promise me something."
He frowned.
"What?"
"Whatever we find, we handle it through the courts."
His expression hardened.
"You think I'd do something reckless?"
"I think you love me."
He looked away.
I continued.
"And I think you haven't forgiven yourself for letting me walk away four years ago."
He sat down slowly.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, "You were twenty-six when you told me you were marrying him."
I remembered.
We'd argued in this very room.
He'd warned me that Preston seemed more interested in my connections than my character.
I'd accused him of judging everyone by their bank accounts.
He'd told me I was making a mistake.
I'd told him I would rather lose my inheritance than lose the man I loved.
And then I'd left.
"I thought giving you space was the right thing," he said.
"It was."
He shook his head.
"I should have checked on you."
"You did."
"Not enough."
I crossed the room and sat beside him.
"Grandpa, Preston fooled me every day for four years. You couldn't have known what he was capable of."
His eyes filled.
I had seen my grandfather angry.
I'd seen him disappointed.
I'd never seen him cry.
He took my hand.
"Then promise me you'll let the investigators do their work."
I nodded.
"I will."
"And promise me you won't go to that gala alone."
May you like
I squeezed his hand.
"That one I can promise."
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