Chapter 14 - THE NIGHT AT LAKE GEORGE
Alistair did not panic.
That probably saved everyone.
The house had lost network access.
Exterior gates had opened remotely.
Multiple vehicles were approaching.
None belonged to local law enforcement.
Alistair’s security detail moved immediately.
Two officers secured Lydia and Clara.
One stayed with Preston.
Another restored satellite communication.
Alistair called the sheriff’s department through a separate encrypted device.
My father remained outside.
He had not entered.
That detail bothered me.
If he believed the arriving people were harmless, he would have walked inside.
Instead, he returned to his car.
“Claire.”
Alistair’s voice came through my phone.
“Listen to me.”
“I am.”
“Do not call Richard.”
“Okay.”
“Do not call Mercer.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll update you.”
“Alistair.”
He looked toward the camera.
“Come home.”
Something softened in his face.
“I will.”
The feed went dark.
My mother emerged from the bathroom.
She took one look at me.
“What happened?”
“Dad is at Lake George.”
Her face tightened.
“Why?”
“Mercer sent people.”
She stared.
“For the files?”
“Yes.”
My mother reached for her phone.
“No.”
I stopped her.
“I’m calling Richard.”
“No.”
“He may listen to me.”
I laughed.
“He locked you out of your house this morning.”
Her hand dropped.
That hurt.
I regretted the sharpness.
But not the warning.
We waited.
Those fifteen minutes felt longer than labor.
Then Alistair called.
“They’re safe.”
I nearly collapsed.
“What happened?”
“Mercer’s men never entered.”
“Why?”
“Sheriff arrived.”
“How?”
“One of our security officers triggered an emergency beacon before the network went down.”
I breathed.
“Dad?”
“Gone.”
“Mercer’s people?”
“Gone before deputies reached the property.”
“Did you get plates?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“Claire.”
“What?”
“Richard left something.”
My pulse quickened.
“What?”
“A note on Preston’s car.”
“Read it.”
Alistair hesitated.
“Read it.”
He did.
YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN THE COMPANY WHEN I OFFERED IT.
I frowned.
“He offered Preston the company?”
“Apparently.”
“When?”
Preston answered from somewhere nearby.
“Last month.”
I sat straighter.
“What?”
The video returned.
My brother appeared.
He looked shaken.
“Dad offered to name me CEO immediately if I signed your transfer as receiving shareholder.”
I stared.
“You never told me.”
“I said no.”
“But you never told me.”
“I thought it was pressure.”
“It was a plan.”
“I know that now.”
“What else did he offer?”
“Control of the family trust after he retired.”
“You believed him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Preston looked toward Lydia.
“Because by then I knew about James.”
My father had already proven he would use Preston’s child against him.
Why trust him?
“Why did he write that note now?”
Preston shook his head.
“Maybe he thinks I chose you.”
“You did.”
My brother met my eyes.
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Not enough to erase everything.
Enough to start.
Local deputies secured the documents.
Alistair’s team transported copies separately.
No single car carried all the evidence.
Grandma would have approved.
By midnight, everyone returned to Manhattan.
Alistair came straight to the hospital.
His sweater smelled faintly like wood smoke from the lake-house fireplace.
I hugged him before he could speak.
For several seconds, I forgot every argument.
Then I pulled back.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Anyone?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I punched his shoulder lightly.
“What was that?”
“For making me worry.”
“I’ll try to schedule threats more conveniently.”
“Don’t.”
He kissed me.
A nurse entered.
She stopped.
We separated.
She smiled.
“I’ll come back.”
“No.”
I was embarrassed.
Alistair wasn’t.
The nurse checked Kirk.
Healthy.
Sleeping.
Perfect.
Then Daniel arrived.
Apparently billion-dollar corporate disputes did not respect visiting hours.
“The Lake George files give us enough to seek broader discovery.”
“Good.”
“There’s more.”
I sighed.
“Why do you always say that?”
“Occupational hazard.”
He opened the folder.
“Richard’s note to Preston may reference a succession agreement.”
“What succession agreement?”
“Found in Lydia’s copies.”
He placed it in front of me.
My father promised Preston the CEO role.
In exchange, Preston would support Northstar financing and “facilitate consolidation of protected family interests.”
My shares.
“Preston didn’t sign.”
“No.”
“Good.”
“But Richard did.”
I frowned.
“So?”
“The document contains a representation.”
I read it.
Richard Bennett represented that all material Northstar negotiations had been fully disclosed to the Bennett board.
They had not.
“That hurts him.”
“Yes.”
“And Northstar?”
“Potentially.”
“How?”
“Mercer countersigned.”
My pulse jumped.
“So Mercer acknowledged that representation.”
“Yes.”
“If he knew it was false…”
“Fraudulent inducement or aiding governance violations becomes easier to argue.”
I almost smiled.
“Grandma keeps winning.”
Daniel nodded.
“She documented well.”
My mother entered.
She had changed clothes.
Looked composed again.
But not the old version.
Something in her had cracked.
Maybe that was good.
“Richard called.”
We all looked toward her.
“What did he want?” I asked.
“To come home.”
“You don’t control the codes.”
“I know.”
“He locked you out.”
“I know.”
“Then why call you?”
She sat.
“He wants me to publicly support him.”
I laughed.
“Of course.”
“What did you say?”
“No.”
I looked at her.
Just that.
No.
My mother had spent thirty-five years obeying my father’s gravity.
Tonight, she stepped out of orbit.
“How did he react?”
“He said I would lose everything.”
“What did you say?”
She looked at me.
“I told him I already lost the things that mattered.”
Silence.
That landed.
She continued.
“He threatened to reveal Lydia and Marcus.”
“That hurts James.”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“That if he uses a child again, I will personally give every document I have to regulators.”
My mother smiled faintly.
“He hung up.”
Alistair looked impressed.
“Remind me not to argue with you.”
She gave him a cold look.
“You already did.”
I almost laughed.
Then Daniel’s phone rang.
The call lasted several minutes.
His face changed as he listened.
When he hung up, he looked at me.
“We have a hearing tomorrow afternoon.”
“Already?”
“Temporary orders.”
“What will Dad ask for?”
“Restoration of trustee authority.”
“And us?”
“Suspension.”
“What about Northstar?”
“They’ve intervened.”
Alistair’s expression hardened.
“Mercer will appear?”
“His counsel definitely will.”
“Julian?”
“Unknown.”
I thought about the offer.
Three hundred fifty million.
The pressure.
The lake house.
“Let him come.”
Daniel closed the folder.
“We should prepare you.”
“For testimony?”
“Possibly.”
Alistair shook his head.
“She gave birth forty-eight hours ago.”
I looked at him.
“I’m testifying.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Claire.”
“My father’s entire argument is that I’m incapable.”
I gestured toward the court papers.
“If I hide behind you, he wins before we start.”
Alistair stared.
“You don’t have to prove strength by exhausting yourself.”
“No.”
I softened.
“I prove it by making my own choice.”
He didn’t like it.
But he nodded.
“Then we prepare.”
We spent the next several hours reviewing questions.
The relationship with Alistair.
My maternity leave.
The hospital documents.
The false signature.
Harlan.
My grandmother.
The Northstar financing.
At 2:30 a.m., Daniel left.
My mother left.
The room became quiet.
Alistair sat beside me.
“You scared?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I looked at him.
“Good?”
“Fear means you understand the stakes.”
I rested my head against the pillow.
“What if we lose?”
“Then we appeal.”
“What if Bennett collapses?”
“We protect employees.”
“What if Dad hates me forever?”
Alistair was silent.
Then he asked,
“Would you give him your shares to make him love you?”
“No.”
“Then you already know the answer.”
My eyes filled.
“I hate that this is my family.”
He took my hand.
“Kirk is your family too.”
I looked toward the bassinet.
“Yes.”
“And Preston.”
“Complicated.”
“Still family.”
“Mom?”
“More complicated.”
“Still.”
I nodded.
“And you?”
Alistair smiled faintly.
“I’m hoping to survive the application process.”
That made me laugh.
“Idiot.”
“Sleep.”
I closed my eyes.
My phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
A photograph.
I opened it.
My blood froze.
It was taken through the hospital-room window.
From the building across the street.
Me.
Alistair.
Kirk.
Underneath was one sentence.
SELL THE SHARES BEFORE THE HEARING OR THE NEXT PHOTO GOES PUBLIC.
Alistair took the phone.
His face became stone.
Then another message arrived.
A second photograph.
This one showed my father entering Mercer Capital’s private office.
Timestamped ten minutes earlier.
May you like
And beneath it.
YOUR FATHER IS ABOUT TO MAKE A DEAL THAT ENDS BENNETT GLOBAL BEFORE MORNING.
