Chapter 8 - The Lawyer at the Center
Margaret survived.
The bullet passed through her upper arm.
By evening she was under police protection in a private hospital room, and Adrian had replayed her warning in his head so many times the words no longer sounded real.
Don’t trust Martin.
Martin Ellis had been Vale’s chief counsel for eleven years.
He had handled Adrian’s father’s estate.
He had negotiated the merger.
He had been the first person Adrian called when Claire appeared in the rain.
Claire listened while Adrian explained.
“Maybe she meant something else,” Claire said.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. But walking into Martin’s office and accusing him based on one sentence is how you make him destroy evidence if he’s guilty.”
Adrian looked at her. “When did you become better at this than me?”
“Somewhere between being called a gold digger and finding out your fiancée is your sister.”
He winced. “Fair.”
It was the first almost-normal moment between them.
Then Noah started crying.
Adrian froze.
Claire raised an eyebrow. “He’s not a bomb.”
“I know.”
“Hold him.”
Adrian stared. “Now?”
“Yes, billionaire. Babies do not schedule emotional milestones around your calendar.”
She put Noah in his arms.
Adrian held him like expensive glass.
The baby opened his eyes.
Same dark gray as Adrian’s.
Something in Adrian cracked so quietly no one else would have heard it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Claire looked away.
At 10:40 p.m., Martin arrived with an update.
“The shooter’s car was stolen. No prints. No camera plate.”
Adrian kept his voice calm. “And the Swiss box?”
Martin’s face did not change. “What Swiss box?”
Adrian watched him carefully.
Claire jumped in. “Margaret mentioned some old foundation records. Nothing important.”
Martin nodded.
Too quickly.
After he left, Claire said, “He knew.”
“How?”
“He looked at your right hand when you said ‘Swiss.’”
Adrian opened his fist.
The brass key was inside.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Vale security.
ARCHIVE ACCESS ALERT: EXECUTIVE LEGAL VAULT.
Someone had entered Martin’s credentials.
Adrian and Claire reached the legal floor in four minutes.
Martin’s office was empty.
His computer was gone.
The wall safe stood open.
Inside was one photograph.
Thomas Vale. Richard Hart. Martin Ellis.
All three men twenty-five years younger.
May you like
On the back, handwritten in Thomas’s ink:
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, MARTIN KNOWS WHY.
