Chapter 6 - The Dead Man
Nathan Vance was alive.
That fact dismantled everything.
Adrian returned to the hospital shortly before midnight with a cut above his eyebrow and blood on his collar.
“Are you hurt?”
“Not seriously.”
“What happened?”
“Julian hit me.”
Despite myself, I stared.
“Julian?”
“He objected to being followed.”
“And Nathan?”
“Gone.”
“How can Nathan be alive?”
Adrian sat.
“His death was staged.”
“By whom?”
“I don't know yet.”
The warehouse belonged to an inactive subsidiary formerly connected to Beaumont Maritime.
Adrian had followed Julian there.
Through a window, he had seen Julian arguing with a man.
Older.
Thin.
Scar along his jaw.
But unmistakably Nathan Vance.
“I met him twelve years ago,” Adrian said. “It was him.”
“What were they arguing about?”
“The frozen transfer.”
My mind raced.
“So Julian was sending Nathan forty-six million dollars?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Apparently Nathan has been blackmailing him.”
“For what?”
Adrian's expression darkened.
“That is the question.”
The following morning, I was transferred from intensive care to a private recovery suite.
Julian appeared at 10:00.
This time I allowed him in immediately.
He looked at Adrian’s bruised face.
“You shouldn't follow people.”
Adrian replied, “You shouldn't commit fraud.”
Julian ignored him.
I looked at my husband.
“Nathan is alive.”
His face revealed nothing.
“How long have you known?”
“Eleven years.”
My chest tightened.
“You told me he was dead.”
“He was supposed to be.”
“What does that mean?”
Julian sat.
And for the first time since this began, he looked tired rather than angry.
“Nathan stole from your father.”
“Adrian told me.”
“He stole more than Harrison knew.”
“How much?”
“Millions.”
“And you helped him?”
“No.”
“Then why the blackmail?”
Julian looked at his hands.
“Because I helped him disappear.”
Silence.
After Nathan's theft was discovered, he had panicked.
He believed prosecution would destroy their mother.
Julian helped arrange a false identity.
Then Nathan's car went off a bridge.
No body was recovered.
The family assumed he died.
In reality, Nathan had escaped to Europe.
“For years, I sent him money,” Julian said.
“Company money?”
“At first, mine.”
“At first?”
He looked away.
“Then he demanded more.”
“So you stole from Vance Global.”
“I borrowed.”
Adrian laughed once.
“You transferred corporate assets to a fugitive.”
Julian stood.
“Do you think I don't know what I did?”
“I think you know exactly what you did.”
I interrupted.
“What does Victoria have to do with this?”
Julian went silent.
“Answer me.”
“She found out.”
“How?”
“Her brother handled offshore structures.”
Of course.
Hayes Strategic.
“Victoria knew Nathan was alive?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Almost two years.”
“And she used that information?”
Julian's jaw tightened.
“She said she could help control the situation.”
“By becoming your mistress?”
“That wasn't—”
“Don't insult me.”
He looked down.
“Victoria and I became involved.”
“While she was working for me.”
“Yes.”
“While she knew you were hiding a fugitive and stealing company money.”
“Yes.”
Something became very clear.
Victoria hadn't simply seduced my husband.
She had acquired leverage over him.
“And the wedding?”
Julian didn't answer.
Adrian did.
“She wanted legitimacy.”
Julian looked furious.
But he didn't deny it.
I stared at him.
“She forced you?”
“No.”
That answer mattered.
“I chose Victoria,” he said quietly.
There was pain in hearing it.
But less than yesterday.
Maybe betrayal had a half-life.
Or maybe surviving death changed the scale of things.
“Then why are you here?”
Julian looked at me.
“Because Nathan is dangerous.”
“To me?”
“To everyone.”
He leaned closer.
“The journals he took from your study contain evidence your father gathered. Nathan wants them destroyed.”
“Then why did you steal them?”
“To trade them.”
“For what?”
“My freedom.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Where are the journals?”
Julian looked at him.
“Nathan has them.”
My stomach dropped.
“You gave them to him?”
“He took them.”
“You said you were trading.”
“The meeting went wrong.”
Adrian’s fists tightened.
“What does Nathan want now?”
Julian looked at me.
“Control of the Beaumont trust shares.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“He can't have them.”
“He knows.”
“Then why?”
“Because he believes there is another document.”
“What document?”
Julian's gaze moved to the blue case.
“The original Beaumont succession instrument.”
Adrian became still.
I noticed.
“You know what he's talking about.”
Adrian didn't answer.
“Adrian.”
He looked at me.
“There is another compartment in the case.”
I stared.
“What?”
He took the case.
Pressed two points beneath the lining.
A panel released.
Inside lay a single folded document.
My father's handwriting appeared across the top.
PRIVATE CODICIL.
I unfolded it.
The first paragraphs concerned the trust.
The next concerned ownership.
Then I reached the final page.
My hands began shaking.
“What?” Julian asked.
I couldn't speak.
Adrian took the paper.
His eyes moved down the page.
Then stopped.
“What does it say?” Julian demanded.
Adrian looked at me.
“It says that if evidence confirms Nathan Vance's continued survival and fraudulent activity, all dormant ownership rights connected to the original Beaumont-Vance partnership revert permanently.”
“To whom?” I asked.
Adrian looked back at the document.
“To you.”
Julian went pale.
“How much?”
Adrian calculated silently.
Then answered.
“Combined with her trust position?”
“Yes.”
“Fifty-one percent.”
No one spoke.
I stared at the document.
Yesterday I had been a woman abandoned in an operating room.
Today I controlled the company Julian had spent his entire adult life calling his.
But Adrian was still reading.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“There’s a handwritten note.”
“From Dad?”
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
He turned the page toward me.
Four words.
Trust Samuel Mercer completely.
I stared at the name.
My surgeon.
The man who had saved my life.
May you like
And suddenly the greatest mystery in the room was no longer my husband.
It was the doctor who had cut open my chest.
