Chapter 10 - The Heir Brett Never Saw ComingFor several seconds, nobody spoke.
Micah looked between us.
“Why does my name keep showing up?”
I looked at the document.
The trust had been created the year before my wedding.
The beneficiary was listed as:
MICHAEL THOMAS HOLLOWAY.
Micah's full name.
My eyes burned.
“Grandma planned this too.”
Daniel nodded.
“She planned everything.”
Margaret read the trust carefully.
“This is a succession structure.”
“What does that mean?”
“If you are removed from control through fraud, the shares transfer to your legal heir.”
“Micah.”
“Yes.”
Brett had spent ten years trying to control the company.
He had never realized that even if he succeeded in destroying me, he could still lose everything.
Because the ownership would go to our son.
A twelve-year-old boy.
That explained why Brett had wanted the recordings.
He didn't simply need me arrested.
He needed Micah discredited.
Or worse.
I suddenly remembered his obsession with keeping Micah away from the company.
“That's why he always told me not to discuss business in front of Micah.”
Daniel nodded.
“He was afraid your son would understand.”
Micah looked at the documents.
“So I'm the reason he wants everything?”
“No,” I said.
“You are the reason he cannot have it.”
At that moment, my phone rang.
Brett.
I answered.
“Claire.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to talk.”
“You've had ten years.”
“I made mistakes.”
“You made plans.”
A pause.
Then his voice changed.
“Micah deserves to hear this from me.”
I felt cold.
“What?”
“I want him to know the truth.”
“You don't get to speak to him.”
“Then he'll learn it from the board.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I've filed a motion to declare you financially unfit.”
I laughed.
“You don't have that authority.”
“I have evidence.”
“Fake evidence.”
“Evidence signed by you.”
He hung up.
Within minutes, a notification arrived.
Brett had filed a legal petition.
Attached were documents showing millions transferred from company accounts to an account under my name.
My signature appeared on every page.
Margaret stared at the screen.
“It looks legitimate.”
“It isn't.”
“I know.”
“But a judge won't know that yet.”
Daniel looked at me.
“The original server logs are in the warehouse.”
“You said it was compromised.”
“It was.”
“Then why would the logs still be there?”
“Because Brett doesn't know I copied them.”
We drove to the warehouse before dawn.
The building stood behind an abandoned strip mall.
Inside, old furniture and shipping crates covered the floor.
Daniel led us to a false wall.
Behind it was a server room.
Dusty.
Cold.
Still running.
He connected a drive.
Thousands of transaction logs appeared.
There.
Every payment.
Every login.
Every transfer.
My account number appeared repeatedly.
But each transaction was followed by a second record.
The original destination.
Victor Dane.
Brett.
Sierra.
Shell corporations.
We had it.
The proof.
Then the server timestamp caught my eye.
The final transfer had happened at 11:47 p.m.
Tonight.
After the gala.
I stared.
“Who did that?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Brett.”
“But he wasn't in the office.”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Daniel looked toward the door.
“Someone using his credentials.”
The door slammed shut.
We turned.
A man stood there.
Not Brett.
Not Victor.
Someone I recognized from the board.
Chairman Richard Holloway.
Brett's uncle.
My husband's closest supporter.
He held a gun.
“You've been very busy.”
Micah stepped behind me.
Richard smiled.
“Give me the server.”
“No.”
“You don't understand.”
“Explain it.”
Richard's smile disappeared.
“Brett was never supposed to be in charge.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Victor was.”
May you like
Richard raised the gun.
“And Brett was supposed to be disposable.”
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