All Chapters of The Last Blueprint: Chapter 31
- Chapter 40
94 chapters
The Safety Deposit Box
First National Bank's vault felt like a tomb—all polished marble and hushed voices, the kind of place where secrets went to sleep for decades. Ethan clutched Marcus's key so tightly it left an imprint in his palm as they followed the bank manager through heavy steel doors and into a room lined with numbered boxes."Vault 247," the manager said, gesturing to a medium-sized box at eye level. "Take all the time you need. Ring the bell when you're finished."He left them alone in a private viewing room—windowless, sterile, just a table and two chairs. Isabelle stood beside Ethan as he inserted the key with shaking hands. The lock turned with a soft click that seemed to echo in the silence.The box slid out smoothly, surprisingly heavy.Ethan set it on the table and stared at it for a long moment, afraid to open it. Afraid of what thirty years of hidden truth might look like."Whatever's in there," Isabelle said quietly, taking his hand, "we face it together."He nodded and lifted the lid
The Investigation Begins
Ethan spread the documents across the foundation conference table like he was building a case—which, technically, he was. Derek stood on one side, Tyler Morrison on the other, all three of them bent over decades-old evidence with the intensity of archaeologists discovering a lost city."William Cross," Morrison said, tapping a photograph of a silver-haired man in an expensive suit. "Currently CEO of Cross Development. One of the largest real estate firms on the East Coast. Net worth approximately three billion dollars.""And a murderer," Ethan added, his voice hard."Allegedly," Morrison corrected automatically, though his expression said he believed it. "But with this evidence, we can build a case strong enough to force a real investigation."Derek pulled up a document on his laptop. "Cross Development has been involved in at least thirty major projects over the past forty years. If Thomas found evidence of embezzlement and money laundering in just one of them, imagine what a full fo
Victoria's Warning
The text came through at 7:43 AM: “I need to talk about Richard Harrington. Meet me. Please. —V”Ethan stared at his phone, coffee halfway to his lips. Victoria. He hadn't heard from her directly since the divorce papers, just the public statement denying involvement in his father's death. Part of him wanted to delete the message and pretend he'd never seen it.But she'd mentioned Richard Harrington.How did Victoria know that name?He texted back: When and where?Her response was immediate: Central Park, bethesda Fountain in an hour time.Ethan glanced across the foundation office where Isabelle was already at her desk, absorbed in something on her laptop. She'd been distant lately, preoccupied. He told himself it was grief over Marcus, stress from the investigation, the weight of running the foundation.He told himself it wasn't because of him."I need to run an errand," he called to her. "Back in a couple hours."She looked up, distracted. "Okay. Be safe."He grabbed his jacket and
The First Fight
Ethan found Isabelle in Marcus's old study, surrounded by file boxes she'd pulled from storage. She looked up when he entered, and something flickered across her face—guilt, maybe, or just exhaustion. He couldn't tell anymore."We need to talk," he said.She closed the folder she'd been reading. "About what?""About why you've been meeting with Harrington family lawyers."The color drained from her face. "Who told you that?""Derek saw you yesterday. Downtown, going into Morrison & Associates." Ethan crossed his arms. "The same firm that handled your grandfather's estate. So I'll ask again: what are you hiding?""I'm not hiding anything." Isabelle stood, defensive. "I'm handling foundation legal issues. Reviewing Marcus's old contracts, making sure everything is properly documented for the transition—""Don't lie to me."The words came out sharper than he intended. Isabelle flinched."I'm not lying.""Then why didn't you tell me you were meeting with lawyers? Why sneak around?""I was
William's Offer
The restaurant was called Le Bernardin—expensive, prestigious, the kind of place where deals worth millions got made over wine that cost more than most people's monthly rent. Ethan felt out of place the moment he walked through the door, but William Cross had chosen it deliberately, as it was rumored to be civilized and safe.Or at least, appearing safe.A hostess led Ethan to a private corner table where William Cross sat waiting. He was older than his photos suggested, mid-seventies, silver hair immaculately styled, wearing a suit that probably cost more than Ethan's car. But his eyes were sharp, calculating, the eyes of a man who'd built an empire through ruthlessness disguised as charm."Mr. Cole." William stood, extending his hand. "Thank you for coming."Ethan didn't take it. He sat down across from William instead, keeping the table between them like a barrier.William smiled, unbothered, and settled back into his chair. "Would you like something to drink? The wine list here is
The Stalking Begins
The black sedan appeared in Ethan's rearview mirror on Tuesday morning. He noticed it because of the tinted windows—too dark to be legal in New York, and because it maintained exactly three car lengths behind him for fifteen blocks. When he turned onto Fifth Avenue, it turned. When he slowed for a traffic light, it slowed.By the time he reached the foundation office, his hands were tight on the steering wheel.He told himself he was being paranoid. That black sedans were common in Manhattan. That William Cross wouldn't be stupid enough to have him followed in broad daylight.But Wednesday morning, the same sedan was parked across from his building when he left for work.And Thursday, his email account locked him out with a message about suspicious login attempts from an unfamiliar device. The IT specialist at the foundation spent an hour reviewing the logs before announcing, confused, "Someone tried to access your account from three different IP addresses. Looks like a coordinated at
Isabelle's Decision
Isabelle stared at Marcus's letter for the hundredth time, her hands trembling. The paper was worn now from being folded and unfolded, read and re-read, carried like a lead weight in her pocket for days.*Tell Ethan the truth. He deserves to know everything.*She'd made her decision. Tonight. She would tell him everything—about Richard, about Marcus's silence, about why she'd been distant and evasive. Let him hate her if he needed to. Let him hate her entire family. At least he'd be alive.Because the alternative, watching him walk blindly into William Cross's trap while she kept silent, was unbearable.She rehearsed it in her mind. *Ethan, there's something I need to tell you about Richard Harrington. He was my great-uncle. And Marcus knew what he did to your father.*The words tasted like ash, but she'd say them. She had to.Isabelle grabbed her jacket and headed for the foundation office where Ethan had been working late with Derek and Morrison. She'd pull him aside, show him the l
The Night Before the Fall
The cemetery was empty at dusk. Isabelle stood before Marcus's grave, the fresh flowers she'd brought already wilting in the November cold. The headstone was simple, elegant, exactly what Marcus would have wanted: *Marcus Harrington, 1943-2024. Builder of Dreams, Keeper of Secrets.*She'd added that last part herself. The engraver had questioned it, but she'd insisted.Keeper of secrets.Like grandfather, like granddaughter."I paid off the witness," she whispered to the granite. "Robert Chen. Half a million dollars from your discretionary fund. The one you left for emergencies." She laughed bitterly. "Is this what you meant? Is this the kind of emergency you had in mind?"The wind rustled through bare trees. No answer. Just cold silence and the weight of her choices pressing down like earth over a coffin."Ethan thinks William got to him. He's devastated. And I just... I let him believe it." Her voice cracked. "I'm becoming you, aren't I? Keeping secrets to protect the family name. L
The Confrontation
Derek's office felt smaller than usual. Maybe it was the tension radiating off Ethan, or maybe it was the damning spreadsheet glowing on the laptop screen between them. Either way, the walls seemed to be closing in."There." Derek tapped the highlighted line. "November fourteenth. Wire transfer from Harrington Foundation discretionary account. Five hundred thousand dollars to an offshore bank in the Cayman Islands."Ethan stared at the numbers. "That's the day Chen backed out.""Three hours before he called Morrison, to be exact." Derek pulled up another window. "And here's Chen's response email to the foundation's secure server. 'Received. I've informed Mr. Morrison that I've reconsidered.'""Someone inside the foundation paid him off." Ethan's voice was hollow."Yes.""Who has access to that account?"Derek hesitated. This was the part he'd been dreading. "Three people. Marcus—obviously not him, he's been dead for weeks. The CFO, Linda Martinez—but she's been in London at a conferen
The Kidnapping & Revelation
At least this way, she could pretend there was still hope. Could tell herself that maybe eventually he'd forgive her, even if he never knew exactly what for.It was a pathetic comfort. But it was all she had left.Isabelle pulled Ethan's pillow to her chest, breathed in the fading scent of him, and let herself cry.For what they'd lost.For what she'd destroyed.For the choice she'd made last night, creating life in the same moment she was killing their relationship.Though she wouldn't know about that consequence for another few weeks yet.Three days of silence. Three days of Ethan in the guest wing and Isabelle in the master bedroom, passing each other in hallways like ghosts. Three days of foundation meetings where they were scrupulously professional and completely, devastatingly distant.Then Ethan's phone rang with a blocked number."Mr. Cole?" The voice was unfamiliar, nervous. "My name is David Torres. I worked with Richard Harrington in the nineties. I heard you were looking f