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353. Everest Secrets
Van leaned back in his office chair, the early morning light filtering through the floor to ceiling windows of the high rise building that housed the headquarters of his company. A thick folder sat open on his desk, pages of legal documents and board memos half read. The city below bustled with energy, but Van found his mind wandering. His thoughts weren’t on mergers, reports, or strategy. They kept drifting back home —to Ivy, their children, and the small, steady rhythm of domestic life he’d come to cherish."Sir?" A member of staff, Mara, peeked in, holding a tablet. "Boardroom is ready. Everyone’s waiting."Van sat up straight, nodding. "Thank you, Mara. I’ll be there in two minutes."He gathered the folder, took one last glance at the photo on his desk— a candid shot of Ivy and the twins chasing each other in the backyard— and sighed softly. He missed them already, and the day had only begun.The board meeting was long, spiced up with tension. Andrew sat across from Van, arms fold
352. Pieces Of The Truth
Van leaned back in the leather chair in his private office, the skyline of the city stretching beyond the floor to ceiling windows behind him. The early morning sun bled over the buildings, casting sharp lines of light across the desk cluttered with reports, confidential files, and an untouched cup of espresso. The air was thick with the scent of ink, paper, and quiet tension.The recent shareholders’ meeting had gone smoothly, too smoothly. Van had been in this business long enough to know when silence meant trouble. And ever since his father’s name had come up in that bizarre, fragmented dossier Isadora had found during their time in Cuba, he had been thinking more and more about the past. Now, he sat surrounded by information pulled from both private investigators and company archives —names, dates, signatures— some of which included his brother Andrew.Van’s jaw tightened.There was a soft knock on the door.“Come in,” he said, already knowing it was Cynthia, his executive secreta
351. Brothers Stand Off
The hallway outside Van's office had a particular silence that day —a muffled kind of quiet, heavy with tension. He’d become good at recognizing that kind of silence. It meant someone was trying not to be heard. Or worse, someone was already listening.Van leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The morning had started like any other —coffee on his desk, a stack of reports from the operations team, a gentle kiss from Ivy before he left home —but something had been bothering him since last week.The unsigned document.He pulled the file from his drawer again. It was a routine acquisition proposal —an old real estate property the company planned to convert into a technology hub. Everything seemed in order. Legal had stamped it, finance had approved it, even the board had given a soft greenlight. But the document bore Andrew’s initials. Only… Andrew hadn’t been at the board meeting when that vote was passed.Van had checked.And Andrew didn’t know he knew t
250. An Ally
It was raining when Van arrived at the residential home where Macy and Miles had settled. The building was quiet except for the soft hum of music— something instrumental and slow— coming from one of the rooms. He found Miles seated right at the balcony, his laptop was opened on his lap, playing a movie but his attention was fixed on his phone, a mug of coffee balanced on the arm of his chair. Despite the rain, he looked calm.“Van, hey," he said as he looked up at Van, but then a notification sound took his attention back to his phone. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" he asked without looking up. “Yeah, I know. it wasn't really my intention to show up unannounced either.” Van replied, taking a step closer. His coat was soaked, but he didn’t take it off.A few seconds passed and both men remained quiet until Miles set his laptop aside, finally meeting Van’s gaze. “Is there something you want to talk about?”“I don't know,” Van said. “You’re the new trustee on a fund my b
349. More Lies
The days that followed were quiet— on the surface. Van worked long hours, staying late at the office, poring over old records, bank transfers, board meeting minutes from years ago. Every so often, he’d catch Andrew watching him from across the boardroom table. Not with worry. Not even with anger. But with a kind of tired amusement, like someone who had seen all this before.It was infuriating.Mason, one of the accountants at the company, stepped into his office on Friday morning carrying a slim file. “I pulled those transaction logs from Zurich. And you were right. There’s a pattern —but it’s subtle.”Van stood. “Show me.”Mason laid out a series of documents across the desk. “Three dormant holding companies. They’ve been inactive for over fifteen years… until six months ago. Now they’re routing small amounts —too small to draw attention —into a trust registered under the name E. Caldwell.”Van frowned. “That’s not a family name.”“No. But the trustee on record was your brother, Andr
348. New Lead
The city skyline stretched outside Van’s office window, a sharp contrast to the warmth he now associated with home. It had been three weeks since they returned from the wedding in the countryside, and Van still hadn’t shaken the strange feeling that something at work wasn’t quite right. Ever since the family meeting —when Andrew dismissed Van’s probing questions about their father’s past with a flippant “Let it go”— he’d been unable to stop looking over his shoulder.Van sat at the head of the long glass conference table, half listening to a presentation about overseas projections. Charts blurred before his eyes. Across the table, Andrew leaned back in his seat, arms folded, not taking a single note. Their older sister, Macy, who had flown in from Paris to join the quarterly meeting, kept shooting him glances— quick, deliberate, unreadable.Van cleared his throat and interrupted the speaker. “Pause on the numbers. I want to address something before we continue.” He turned toward Andre
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