Chapter 17 - THE COUNTERATTACK
Dad surrendered the next morning.
He walked into a federal building carrying no lawyer and no phone.
I watched through glass as investigators escorted him into an interview room.
Naomi stood beside me.
“Do you want to hear this?”
“Yes.”
Dad confessed to fraud.
Forgery.
Obstruction.
Misuse of trust funds.
Participation in old Northstar transactions.
Almost everything.
But he denied killing Stephen.
He said he visited him to demand the truth about Grandma.
Stephen laughed.
Admitted entering her room.
Denied killing her.
Then told Dad something disturbing.
“Evelyn was awake when I left.”
If true, someone else had entered later.
Hospital visitor logs did not show anyone.
But logs could be manipulated.
The medication record had been manipulated.
Northstar had always lived in altered records.
Dad gave investigators another name.
Dr. Alan Mercer.
No relation.
Grandma’s attending physician.
Retired now.
Living in Arizona.
Before authorities reached him, he disappeared.
Again.
Another missing person.
Another old secret resurfacing.
But this time we were prepared.
CipherStone’s forensic team reconstructed fifteen-year-old hospital email archives from backup tapes preserved during a legal migration.
One message from Dr. Mercer to Gregory Voss had been deleted.
Subject.
EVELYN.
Body.
I DID WHAT YOU ASKED.
NO AUTOPSY WILL BE NECESSARY.
Gregory was still hospitalized under guard.
When confronted, he denied ordering murder.
He claimed he asked the doctor only to ensure privacy around Grandma’s medical records because Northstar documents had been hidden in her room.
Plausible.
Convenient.
Incomplete.
The task force reopened Grandma’s death formally.
Meanwhile, Jason remained in custody on the newer fraud and kidnapping-related charges.
His attorneys attacked me publicly.
They claimed I orchestrated a revenge campaign.
They claimed I had manipulated digital evidence.
They claimed CipherStone’s involvement contaminated everything.
News outlets picked it up.
BRIDE CEO USES CYBER COMPANY TO DESTROY FIANCÉ.
Clients called.
One suspended a contract.
Another demanded an audit.
Our board scheduled an emergency meeting.
For the first time, Jason’s scheme began hurting CipherStone even after failing.
Exactly what Stephen had wanted.
Marcus stood in my office.
“We can fight.”
“We will.”
But I knew the problem.
A cybersecurity company depended on trust.
If people believed I used our resources for personal retaliation, even falsely, the damage could spread.
At the board meeting, one director asked me to temporarily step aside.
Marcus objected.
I did not.
“If my remaining CEO harms the company, I step aside.”
He stared at me.
“They’ll call it an admission.”
“No.”
“I’ll call it governance.”
I temporarily transferred operating authority to our president.
For forty-eight hours, headlines treated it like defeat.
Mom called from her attorney’s office.
“I’m sorry.”
I almost hung up.
Then she said.
“I can fix one thing.”
“What?”
“The wedding planner.”
I frowned.
“She saw Jason switch the folders.”
That mattered.
“Why didn’t she say anything?”
“She thought he was helping.”
Mom had watched Jason replace my legitimate wedding documents with the forged package.
The planner could establish physical possession.
Then another witness emerged.
The hotel videographer.
His camera had accidentally captured Dad handing Jason the folder before the ceremony.
We had independent evidence.
Not CipherStone.
Not my devices.
Not my employees.
The public narrative began shifting.
Then Marcus found the breakthrough.
The forged documents contained invisible printer-tracking data.
Tiny machine identification marks.
They came from a printer inside Voss Capital.
Gregory’s office.
We could prove the package had been produced there.
When confronted, Gregory finally stopped denying involvement.
But instead of confessing, he offered a deal.
“I will give you the entire Northstar network.”
“In exchange for what?”
“Protection for Sydney.”
I stared at him.
“From prosecution?”
“From Jason.”
“Jason is in custody.”
Gregory shook his head.
“You still don’t understand him.”
“What?”
“He has a dead-man switch.”
My pulse slowed.
“If Jason stays in custody too long, files are released.”
“What files?”
“CipherStone client data.”
I went cold.
Gregory continued.
“He didn’t steal enough to attack your clients.”
“He stole enough to embarrass them.”
“Security reports.”
“Vulnerability summaries.”
“Private incident histories.”
If released publicly, they could destroy reputations.
Maybe trigger attacks.
Jason had built leverage beyond his freedom.
“Where is the switch?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who does?”
Gregory looked at me.
“Colin.”
The cousin who disappeared after the wedding.
We had never found him.
Then my phone rang.
Marcus.
“Meline.”
“What?”
“We found Colin.”
“Where?”
“Not alive.”
My stomach dropped.
And inside Colin’s pocket, police found a handwritten note.
May you like
Three words.
MELINE HAS SEVEN DAYS.
