Chapter 6 - The Daughter Who DisappearedAlexander Whitmore had spent twenty years believing that money could protect his daughter from the world.
Now he was beginning to wonder whether his money had placed her directly in danger.
"Find Olivia," he told Rachel.
"We're trying."
"Try harder."
Daniel stepped forward.
"Alex, we need to be careful. If Olivia's name is attached to Northbridge, she could be implicated in financial crimes."
Alexander turned sharply.
"She's twenty years old."
"She's also the legal beneficiary of a trust that received millions of dollars in transfers."
"She doesn't even understand the structure of her trust."
"That may be true. But we need evidence."
Alexander looked toward Naomi.
She had been listening silently.
"Do you have children?" she asked.
Alexander shook his head.
"Just Olivia."
"Then find out whether she's safe before you decide she's guilty."
He stared at her.
The waitress whose father had been destroyed by his family was reminding him to protect his own daughter.
He felt something twist painfully inside his chest.
"You're right."
Olivia Whitmore sat in a hotel room in Brooklyn, staring at her phone.
Twenty-three missed calls.
Eleven from her father.
Seven from her mother.
Five from a number she didn't recognize.
She hadn't answered any of them.
On the bed beside her lay a manila envelope filled with financial records.
Her hands trembled as she opened it again.
The first page was a bank transfer authorization.
Her signature appeared at the bottom.
Except she had never signed it.
The second page listed payments to Bradley Mercer.
The third contained a photograph of her mother entering a private office at Whitmore Tower with a man Olivia recognized.
A man named Grant Sloane.
Her mother's longtime financial adviser.
And the man who had spent the past six months telling Olivia that her father was preparing to disinherit her.
Olivia pressed her hands against her face.
Three weeks earlier, Grant had called her in London.
He said he had discovered suspicious activity involving her trust.
He said her father was hiding something.
He said the only way to protect herself was to come home quietly.
She had believed him.
Then, three days ago, Grant arranged for Bradley Mercer to meet her at the airport.
Bradley drove her to a private office in Midtown, where Grant presented documents he claimed would freeze unauthorized transfers.
Olivia signed two pages.
She refused to sign the third.
That was when Grant's manner changed.
"You don't understand what's at stake," he told her.
"Then explain it."
"Your father is about to lose everything."
"That's impossible."
Grant smiled without warmth.
"Nothing is impossible when the truth comes out."
Later that evening, Olivia discovered copies of her signature on documents she had never seen.
She confronted Grant.
He threatened to tell federal investigators she had knowingly authorized the transfers.
She fled before he could stop her.
Now she was hiding in a cheap hotel under a name borrowed from a college friend.
Her phone rang again.
Dad.
Olivia stared at the screen.
Then answered.
"Daddy?"
Alexander stood so quickly his chair struck the wall.
"Olivia."
She began crying.
"I'm sorry."
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Is someone threatening you?"
Silence.
Alexander's voice softened.
"Liv, listen to me. Whatever happened, we'll face it together."
"You don't understand."
"Then help me understand."
Olivia looked toward the hotel door.
"I think Mom is involved in something terrible."
Alexander closed his eyes.
"Tell me where you are."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because they said they'd hurt Grandma."
His blood ran cold.
"Who said that?"
Before Olivia could answer, someone knocked on her hotel room door.
Three slow knocks.
She stopped breathing.
"Olivia?" Alexander said.
The knocking came again.
A man's voice sounded from the hallway.
"Miss Whitmore? Hotel security. We need to speak with you."
Olivia whispered, "Dad, they found me."
The line went dead.
Alexander was already moving.
"Daniel, call the police."
He gave Rachel Olivia's last known location from the phone's emergency location-sharing feature, which Olivia had enabled years earlier.
Rachel contacted the hotel.
The desk clerk confirmed that a young woman matching Olivia's description had checked in under another name.
But the clerk had no idea who was knocking on her door.
Alexander left Whitmore Tower with two security professionals and a police liaison on the phone.
Naomi watched him go.
For the first time, she saw him not as a billionaire or the son of the woman she'd defended.
She saw a terrified father.
Twenty-six minutes later, Alexander arrived at the Brooklyn hotel.
Two police officers were already outside Olivia's room.
The door stood open.
The room was empty.
Her suitcase remained beside the bed.
Her phone lay on the carpet.
Alexander stepped inside.
"Where is she?"
One officer answered carefully.
"We're reviewing surveillance footage."
Alexander looked at the bed.
The manila envelope was gone.
But beneath the pillow, something remained.
A folded sheet of hotel stationery.
He picked it up.
Four words were written across the paper.
Ask Grandma about Room 814.
Alexander stared at the message.
Room 814.
The number struck a buried nerve.
He had seen it somewhere before.
He called his mother.
Eleanor answered on the second ring.
"Alex?"
"Mom, what was in Room 814 at the Grand Regent?"
Silence.
Then Eleanor whispered, "Who told you about that room?"
"Olivia."
Eleanor made a sound that was almost a sob.
"Alexander, you have to come home."
"Tell me what happened."
"I can't explain it over the phone."
"Mom, Olivia's missing."
Eleanor gasped.
Then she said something that made Alexander's blood turn cold.
"Then they finally found out what Michael Carter hid."
At the same moment, Victoria Whitmore entered Grant Sloane's private office.
He stood beside the window, holding a glass of whiskey.
"You told me Olivia would cooperate," he said.
Victoria removed her gloves.
"She's frightened."
"She's dangerous."
"She's my daughter."
Grant turned.
"And Michael Carter was someone's father. That didn't stop Charles."
Victoria flinched.
"Don't say his name."
Grant approached her.
"We have a problem."
"What problem?"
"Alexander has the recording."
Victoria's face went pale.
"That's impossible."
"Rebecca Carter kept a copy."
Victoria gripped the back of a chair.
Grant lowered his voice.
"If Alexander finds the original inspection reports, he'll discover what really happened in Room 814."
Victoria stared at him.
"You promised those records were destroyed."
"They were supposed to be."
"Then find them."
Grant smiled coldly.
"That's exactly what your daughter was helping me do."
Victoria looked toward the door.
"Where is Olivia?"
Grant didn't answer.
"Grant."
He set down his glass.
"That depends on how cooperative you intend to be."
Victoria's breath caught.
"You wouldn't."
Grant leaned closer.
"Your husband is about to discover that his father's greatest crime wasn't the fire."
May you like
He paused.
"It was what happened afterward."
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