Chapter 9 - Midnight's HeirAt 11:17 p.m., Beatrice entered the Wilkes estate.
Alone.
At least, that was what Alexander believed.
Dante had taken a different route through the underground tunnels.
Beatrice wore a black dress.
No jewelry.
No weapons.
She carried a small recorder in her purse.
The estate was silent.
Every light had been turned on.
Every hallway was empty.
At the end of the main corridor stood Alexander.
“Welcome home.”
Beatrice stopped.
“I'm not your family.”
He smiled.
“You are.”
“Where is Maggie?”
“Safe.”
“Where is Victoria?”
“Alive.”
“My mother?”
“Waiting.”
Beatrice looked around.
“You brought all of us here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because tonight the Wilkes family ends.”
She studied him.
“You don't want the company.”
“No.”
“The money?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Alexander looked genuinely surprised.
“The truth.”
He walked toward an old painting.
Behind it was a safe.
He opened it.
Inside was a stack of letters.
One had Beatrice's name.
“You were the daughter Thomas loved.”
Beatrice recoiled.
“Don't say that.”
“You should know.”
“He tried to take me.”
“He tried to own you.”
Alexander's expression hardened.
“That's different.”
He handed her the letter.
Thomas's handwriting.
Beatrice,
If you are reading this, I failed.
Your mother believes I am a monster.
Maybe I am.
But there is one thing she does not understand.
The trust was not created to control you.
It was created to protect you from me.
Beatrice's eyes widened.
She looked at Alexander.
“What's this?”
“Read the rest.”
She did.
The letter revealed something none of them had known.
Thomas intended to surrender control.
He planned to expose the Wilkes financial network.
The $4.8 million wasn't theft.
It was a hidden reserve.
Money moved out of the corporation to protect witnesses.
Dante's account had been used because Thomas trusted Moretti Holdings to keep transactions invisible.
Beatrice looked up.
“Then who stole the money?”
Alexander's voice became quiet.
“My father.”
“Your father?”
“Charles.”
She froze.
“Charles Wilkes isn't your brother.”
“No.”
“He's your…”
Alexander nodded.
“Father.”
Beatrice suddenly understood.
Charles Wilkes was Thomas's nephew.
He had pretended to serve the family.
But he had been draining the company for years.
The $4.8 million was only the visible amount.
The real theft exceeded $300 million.
Beatrice stared.
“And Daniel?”
“Charles's son.”
“Alexander?”
“His legal son.”
“Then why hide you?”
“Because my mother was a Gallagher.”
Beatrice felt dizzy.
They were all connected.
Every branch.
Every lie.
Every ledger.
Every disappearance.
Alexander looked at the clock.
11:47.
“You have thirteen minutes.”
“Until midnight.”
“Yes.”
“What happens then?”
“The trust opens.”
“And Charles loses everything.”
Alexander nodded.
“Unless you reject it.”
“Why would I?”
“Because if you accept the inheritance, you become the new head of the Wilkes empire.”
Beatrice laughed bitterly.
“I don't want an empire.”
“You do not understand.”
He stepped closer.
“Once you inherit it, everyone who wants revenge will come for you.”
Dante emerged from the darkness behind him.
Alexander didn't react.
“You came anyway.”
Dante said:
“I wasn't going to let her face this alone.”
Beatrice looked between them.
Alexander smiled.
“Good.”
He pulled out a gun.
Dante raised his own.
Alexander pointed the weapon toward the ceiling.
“One of you is going to make a decision.”
The clock moved.
11:58.
Then a loud crash came from the hallway.
Charles Wilkes entered.
Blood covered his shirt.
Behind him stood Maggie.
And Victoria.
Charles raised a gun.
“Step away from my son.”
Alexander turned.
“You're late.”
Charles smiled.
“I'm not here for you.”
He pointed at Beatrice.
“I'm here for the heir.”
The clock struck 11:59.
May you like
And Beatrice realized the real plan had never been about making her inherit the Wilkes fortune.
It was about making her die before midnight.
