Chapter 7 - ADRIAN VALE’S FATHER
Adrian left the bedroom without a word.
I found him downstairs ten minutes later standing in the garden.
Rain had begun.
He did not seem to notice.
I opened the back door.
“Adrian.”
He kept facing the hedges.
“Come inside.”
“No.”
“You’re getting soaked.”
“I don’t care.”
I almost told him that I did.
The sentence rose automatically.
I swallowed it.
I did care.
That was the problem.
A clean hatred would have been easier.
Instead, I was furious with him and still recognized the curve of his shoulders when he was devastated.
I stepped beneath the covered patio.
“Do you believe her?”
He laughed bitterly.
“My mother lies the way other people breathe.”
“That is not an answer.”
He turned.
Rain ran down his face.
“My father and I looked nothing alike.”
“Families don’t always.”
“He used to joke about it.”
“What kind of joke?”
“That I was too soft to be his son.”
His jaw tightened.
“He said my mother must have ordered the wrong baby.”
I winced.
“That is cruel.”
“He was cruel.”
I thought of my grandfather’s description.
A man who found the point where fear became useful.
“Did you ever question it?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Why would I?”
“Because families keep secrets.”
He looked at me.
“So do husbands.”
I accepted the hit.
“Yes.”
He stepped closer to the patio.
“I deserve that.”
“You do.”
Rain hammered the stone between us.
He looked toward the house.
“If Richard Vale wasn’t my father, then who was?”
I thought of VRC.
My grandmother.
The forged foundation transfers.
A thought I did not want arrived anyway.
“Do you know your blood type?”
Adrian frowned.
“O positive.”
I stared at him.
My grandfather was O positive.
That meant nothing by itself.
Too many people shared the type.
Still, the thought lodged in my chest.
“Come inside.”
This time he did.
Margaret had moved everyone to the library.
She had the bugging-device audio transcribed.
My grandfather stood near the fireplace.
When Adrian entered, Jonathan looked at him differently.
I saw it.
So did Adrian.
“What?” Adrian asked.
Jonathan’s face hardened.
“Nothing.”
“That looked like something.”
I stepped between them verbally before my grandfather could make things worse.
“We need to identify the man speaking to Veronica.”
Margaret nodded.
“Audio enhancement is underway.”
Adrian sat.
“What about my father?”
Jonathan remained silent.
Adrian looked at him.
“You knew Richard.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know my mother before she married him?”
“Yes.”
That answer was not surprising.
The next one was.
“How well?” Adrian asked.
Jonathan looked at me.
I understood immediately that he did not want to answer.
That made the answer necessary.
“Granddad.”
He closed his eyes.
“Very well.”
Adrian stared at him.
“How well?”
Jonathan’s voice dropped.
“We had an affair.”
No one moved.
The rain outside seemed suddenly deafening.
Adrian stood so fast the chair hit the floor.
“When?”
“Thirty-nine years ago.”
Adrian was thirty-eight.
The math entered the room before anyone spoke it.
His face changed.
“No.”
Jonathan looked older with every second.
“It ended before you were born.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“No.”
Adrian’s voice rose.
“Was my mother sleeping with you when I was conceived?”
My grandfather stared into the fire.
“Yes.”
Adrian recoiled as if struck.
I grabbed the back of a chair.
Margaret whispered, “Jonathan.”
He lifted one hand.
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do,” Adrian said.
His voice shook.
“You stood in my wife’s kitchen an hour ago treating me like contaminated blood while knowing there was a chance I was yours.”
“I did not know there was a chance.”
“You just admitted—”
“Your mother told me Richard was your father.”
“And you believed her?”
“I had no reason not to.”
Adrian laughed.
“You had every reason.”
His face twisted.
“She lies.”
“She manipulates.”
“She builds plans around people’s lives.”
“And you believed the one thing she said that protected you from responsibility.”
Jonathan stepped forward.
“That is enough.”
Adrian stared at him.
“Is that how you talk to sons?”
The room froze.
My grandfather’s face broke for one second.
Then he looked away.
I felt sick.
This was becoming too personal, too fast, and exactly what whoever had planted that bug might have wanted.
I raised my voice.
“Stop.”
Both men turned toward me.
“This changes nothing about the immediate problem.”
Adrian stared at me.
“It changes everything.”
“Emotionally, yes.”
“Legally, maybe.”
“But we still have forged transfers, a compromised foundation, a fake spousal agreement, a surveillance device, and at least one person inside Mercer working with the Vales.”
I pointed toward the transcript.
“And whoever recorded Veronica expected us to find this eventually.”
Margaret nodded slowly.
“She’s right.”
Jonathan frowned.
“How?”
“The device was not concealed professionally.”
One security specialist answered from the doorway.
“Correct.”
“We found it in under fifteen minutes.”
“So?” Adrian asked.
“So if surveillance was the only goal, they would have hidden it better.”
I looked at the transcript.
“It was bait.”
Margaret’s eyes met mine.
“To expose Veronica?”
“Or to destabilize Adrian.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Mission accomplished.”
My phone buzzed.
Another encrypted message.
I expected the anonymous sender.
Instead, it came from a number I recognized.
Blake Vale.
I KNOW YOU FOUND THE DEVICE.
DO NOT TRUST VERONICA.
DO NOT TRUST NORTHBRIDGE.
AND FOR GOD’S SAKE, DO NOT TRUST YOUR GRANDFATHER.
I showed the others.
Jonathan’s face darkened.
“Call him.”
I did.
Blake answered immediately.
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
“Then I can’t talk.”
“You lost the right to set conditions when my security key turned up in Adrian’s car wrapped in your seating card.”
Silence.
“Elena, I can explain.”
“Apparently everyone in this family owns that sentence.”
“Listen to me.”
“I am listening.”
“I did not steal your key.”
“It was in the car you borrowed.”
“I put it there.”
Adrian surged forward.
“You what?”
Blake heard him.
“Adrian?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, hell.”
“Why did you put her key in my car?”
“To keep it away from Veronica.”
I closed my eyes.
“That is the worst explanation I have heard today.”
“I took it from Victor.”
Everyone went still.
“Your father?” Adrian asked.
“My father,” Blake confirmed.
“He had it at the reception.”
“How?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I saw it in his pocket when he dropped his phone.”
“I recognized the Mercer security stamp because I had seen one before.”
“Where?”
“At Northbridge.”
Margaret stepped closer.
“When were you at Northbridge?”
Blake hesitated.
“Six months ago.”
“Why?”
“I work for them.”
Adrian whispered a curse.
Blake continued quickly.
“Not officially.”
“I’ve been feeding them information about Vale Development.”
“You’re an informant?” I asked.
“Call it whatever you want.”
“Voss thinks Veronica and my father have been moving money through old VRC structures.”
“Why would Northbridge care if they financed Vale?”
“Because Northbridge did not finance Vale to save it.”
Margaret’s expression sharpened.
“Then why?”
“To force VRC into the open.”
The room went silent.
Blake lowered his voice.
“Voss thinks VRC holds something worth more than Vale Development.”
“What?”
“A dormant ownership position.”
“In what?”
There was a pause.
Then Blake said, “Mercer Holdings.”
My heart stopped.
“That is impossible.”
“I thought so too.”
“What percentage?” Jonathan demanded.
Blake heard him.
His voice changed.
“You’re there.”
“Yes,” Jonathan said.
“Then you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I do not.”
Blake laughed once.
“Ask him about the 1988 founder shares.”
I turned toward my grandfather.
His face went white.
“Granddad?”
He said nothing.
Blake continued.
“Those shares were supposed to be canceled.”
“They weren’t.”
“They were transferred into a trust.”
“What trust?” I asked.
“Red Crown.”
The name hit like a hammer.
“How much of Mercer Holdings?”
Blake took a breath.
“If the documents are real, enough to change who controls the company.”
The call disconnected.
I stared at my grandfather.
He looked suddenly, terribly old.
“What are the 1988 founder shares?”
Jonathan sat down.
For the first time in my life, I saw him look defeated.
May you like
“They are the reason your grandmother may still be alive.”
