Chapter 8 - The KeyMaxwell replayed the recording five times.
Each time, the same sentence.
He is the key to taking it back.
Clara stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
“You have to.”
“No.”
Maxwell stood.
“We need to find out who owns the company.”
Clara looked at the documents.
“Your father.”
“Legally.”
“And secretly?”
Maxwell stared at the trust paperwork.
“That may be different.”
They spent the entire night studying the documents.
At five in the morning, Maxwell found something.
A clause.
Buried deep inside the trust.
If the original shareholders' descendants were alive, control would transfer upon the activation of the trust.
Clara frowned.
“What activates it?”
Maxwell read the line again.
“Proof of fraud.”
“What kind?”
“Financial fraud.”
Clara's eyes widened.
“Your father has been accused of stealing money.”
“No.”
Maxwell shook his head.
“The trust doesn't say my father.”
“It says the company.”
She pointed at the document.
“That includes him.”
Maxwell looked at her.
“And everyone else.”
Clara suddenly became still.
“Maxwell.”
“What?”
“The money.”
“What money?”
“The transfer from Onochie Holdings.”
She pulled up a photograph.
“Look at the destination account.”
Maxwell stared.
The account belonged to a shell company.
Then he recognized the address.
It was located inside the Onochie headquarters.
Clara whispered.
“Someone inside the company is stealing from your father.”
Maxwell nodded.
“And making it look like he did it.”
They looked at each other.
Then Maxwell's phone rang.
He answered.
“Hello?”
A woman spoke.
“Mr. Maxwell?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Esther.”
“Who are you?”
“I work in your father's finance department.”
Maxwell said nothing.
“I know about the transfers.”
His heart raced.
“What transfers?”
“The ones you found.”
“Why call me?”
“Because I'm scared.”
“Where are you?”
“Parking basement.”
“When?”
“Now.”
The call ended.
Maxwell grabbed his keys.
Clara stopped him.
“Don't go alone.”
They drove to the headquarters.
The building was massive.
Glass.
Steel.
Security everywhere.
Maxwell had spent years entering through the main lobby.
Now he felt like an outsider.
They reached the parking basement.
A woman stood beside a silver car.
She looked around nervously.
“Mr. Maxwell?”
“Yes.”
She handed him a folder.
“Everything is inside.”
Maxwell opened it.
Invoices.
Bank records.
Payment schedules.
Fake companies.
Overseas transfers.
He looked up.
“Who authorized these?”
Esther swallowed.
“The chairman.”
“My father?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
She whispered:
“Your uncle.”
Maxwell's expression hardened.
“Why?”
“Because he has been preparing to take control of the company.”
“How?”
“He has been moving money out of the company.”
“And?”
“When the debt becomes impossible to hide, he'll buy the distressed assets through another company.”
Clara looked at Maxwell.
“He wants the whole empire.”
Esther nodded.
“He also paid someone to make sure you disappeared.”
Maxwell's jaw tightened.
“Who?”
Esther opened her mouth.
A gunshot exploded.
She fell.
Clara screamed.
Maxwell dropped behind the vehicle.
Another shot.
The lights shattered.
Maxwell grabbed Esther.
“Clara, help me!”
They dragged the woman behind a concrete pillar.
Her breathing was weak.
“Who shot you?”
She whispered:
“Basement…”
“What?”
“Third floor…”
“I don't understand.”
She grabbed Maxwell's shirt.
“He has your mother's signature.”
Then she went still.
Clara's eyes filled with horror.
Maxwell looked at the folder.
At the bottom was a document.
Signed by Lolo Onochie.
Authorization for emergency asset transfers.
Maxwell whispered:
“My mother.”
Clara looked at him.
“Maybe she really did it.”
Maxwell shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who has her signature?”
Before he could answer, the elevator doors opened.
A man stepped out.
He looked directly at Maxwell.
Then smiled.
“Your mother signed everything.”
Maxwell recognized him.
His uncle.
May you like
Alexander Onochie.
And he was holding a gun.
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