THE SON THEY BURIED WAS THEIR ONLY HEIR

Chapter Forty Nine: The Attack They Could Not Stop

By eight o'clock that morning, the Ashcroft Group was already bleeding.

The first warning came through the financial markets.

The company's stock took a big hit, falling seven percent in under five minutes.

Then twelve.

Then sixteen.

In less than half an hour, three big investors started getting rid of their shares.

Phones rang across the executive floors.

Assistants ran between offices.

Security personnel were called to the financial division after several employees reported being locked out of internal systems.

At the center of it all, Victor Ashcroft stood before the wall of screens in the executive conference room.

His face was expressionless.

Only his clenched fists betrayed him.

"Stop the trading."

The chief financial officer swallowed.

"We've tried."

"Try again."

"We can't."

Victor turned.

"What do you mean, you can't?"

They're not just selling through one place, it's coming from all over - different banks, lots of accounts, and even brokers from other countries are involved.

Damian studied the market data.

"This isn't a panic."

The CFO nodded.

"No."

"It's coordinated."

"Yes."

Victor looked at him.

"By whom?"

"We haven't identified them."

Damian's eyes remained on the screens.

"Then find them."

"We're trying."

Victor slammed his hand against the table.

"Trying isn't an answer."

The doors opened.

Eleanor entered carrying a tablet.

She looked at Victor.

"They've moved beyond the stock."

Victor turned.

"What happened?"

Three companies owned by Ashcroft recently got urgent warnings from the banks they borrowed money from.

Damian stood.

"Which subsidiaries?"

"Construction. Real estate. And the banking division."

Victor's expression changed.

"On what grounds?"

"Risk exposure."

"That's ridiculous."

Eleanor shook her head.

"It gets worse."

She placed the tablet on the table.

"Several properties have been flagged for ownership verification."

Damian frowned.

"Ownership verification?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Eleanor looked at Victor.

"Because someone has submitted historical inheritance documents."

The room went silent.

Victor stared at the tablet.

"Which properties?"

Eleanor hesitated.

"Several major assets."

"Names."

"A commercial development in the eastern district. Two residential estates. An old financial property."

She paused.

"And Ashcroft Manor."

Victor's face went completely still.

Damian noticed.

"Father?"

Victor didn't answer.

"Why would Ashcroft Manor be included?"

"It's a property," Victor said.

"Not like the others."

Damian's voice sharpened.

"Why did you react to that name?"

Victor turned toward him.

"Because you're asking questions you don't understand."

"Then explain."

"Not here."

Damian stepped closer.

"You've been saying for years that the whole Ashcroft inheritance thing was all wrapped up."

"It was."

"Then why are old inheritance documents suddenly threatening the company?"

Victor looked away.

"Because someone is trying to create uncertainty."

Damian wasn't convinced.

Eleanor watched Victor carefully.

She knew that expression.

Fear.

Not fear of losing money.

Fear of something returning.

Something buried.

Just as Damian was about to ask something else, the doors to the conference room swung open once more.

A senior lawyer, who worked with big companies, walked in with a big stack of papers.

"Chairman."

Victor turned.

"What?"

"We found the documents."

Damian looked at him.

"Found what?"

"The source of the ownership challenge."

Victor held out his hand.

The attorney gave him the file.

Victor opened it.

His eyes moved across the first page.

Then the second.

His breathing changed.

Eleanor noticed.

"What is it?"

Victor didn't answer.

Damian reached for the file.

Victor pulled it away.

"Not now."

"Father."

"I said not now."

Damian stared at him.

Then the attorney spoke.

"The documents appear authentic."

Victor slowly looked up.

"Are you certain?"

We've looked at the registration numbers, old signatures, and property records that have been stored away.

"And?"

"The inheritance structure existed."

Damian's expression hardened.

"Who was the beneficiary?"

The attorney hesitated.

"We haven't identified the original name."

"Why?"

"Because it was removed from the surviving copy."

Victor closed the file.

"Enough."

Damian stared at him.

"You knew."

Victor's eyes met his.

"I knew there were old records."

"That's not what I asked."

Eleanor quietly spoke.

"Victor..."

He looked at her.

She shook her head.

"Don't."

Damian looked between them.

"What happened twenty-five years ago?"

Neither answered.

Then the attorney's phone rang.

He answered.

His expression changed almost immediately.

"Chairman..."

Victor waited.

The company's emergency credit facilities have been put on hold by the lenders.

Damian's face tightened.

"All of them?"

"Three major facilities."

"How long?"

"Immediately."

Victor looked at the screens.

The stock was now down twenty-one percent.

He finally understood.

This wasn't an attack designed to destroy Ashcroft Group quickly.

It was designed to strangle it.

Cut the company's access to credit.

Create doubts about ownership.

Pressure the subsidiaries.

Force the board into defensive action.

Then take control of whatever remains.

"Whoever is behind this clearly has inside knowledge of the company," Victor stated.

Damian looked at him.

"How well?"

"Too well."

A silence followed.

Then Victor's eyes narrowed.

"Benedict."

Damian frowned.

"What about him?"

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

Victor turned toward Eleanor.

"Do you?"

She didn't answer immediately.

"No."

Victor's expression hardened.

"Find him."

Damian looked at his father.

"Why?"

He's the one who will know what's going on if anyone does.

That surprised Damian.

"You trust Benedict?"

Victor looked at the falling stock figures.

"No."

He paused.

"But I've learned something."

"What?"

Victor's voice lowered.

"Never underestimate a man who sees the pattern before everyone else."

Benedict was by himself in a quiet office somewhere in Aurelia City. The office was really quiet, and he was sitting there all alone.

Three screens illuminated the room.

The first displayed Ashcroft Group's market position.

The second showed the company's debt structure.

The third one had a map that showed how all the smaller companies were connected and owned by the bigger ones.

Benedict stared at the pattern.

He had been watching for nearly forty minutes.

He hadn't called anyone.

He hadn't needed to.

The attack had a signature.

Not a technical signature.

A strategic one.

He moved one file onto the main screen.

"Construction."

Another.

"Real estate."

Another.

"Banking."

He connected them.

Then added the lender actions.

His eyes narrowed.

The attacks weren't independent.

They were synchronized.

Someone wanted Ashcroft Group to believe it was facing several crises simultaneously.

But the real target wasn't the subsidiaries.

Benedict opened the historical ownership records.

There.

A dormant structure buried twenty-five years ago.

He leaned back.

"An inheritance trust."

His phone rang.

He answered.

"Yes?"

His associate's voice came through.

"We found something."

"What?"

"The old trust has been activated."

Benedict became still.

"By whom?"

"We don't know yet."

"Then find out."

"We're trying."

Benedict looked at the ownership map.

"Don't chase the claimant."

"What should we chase?"

"The person who benefits if the claimant succeeds."

A pause.

Then his associate asked,

"And if that person is Magnus?"

Benedict's expression hardened.

"Then we finally know where to look."

He ended the call.

For several seconds, he stared at the screen.

Then he noticed something.

The trust wasn't simply connected to Ashcroft Group.

It was connected to the Ashcroft Manor.

Benedict's expression changed.

Someone wasn't merely attacking the company.

Someone was forcing the Ashcroft to reopen something they had buried twenty-five years ago.

His phone rang again.

This time, it was an unfamiliar number.

Benedict answered.

No one spoke.

"Who is this?"

Silence.

Then a distorted voice said,

"You've been looking for answers."

Benedict's eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?"

"You should stop."

"Why?"

"Because the moment you find the truth, you won't be able to go back."

Benedict stood.

"Is that supposed to frighten me?"

"No."

The voice paused.

"It's supposed to warn you."

The call ended.

Benedict looked toward the window.

Ashcroft Manor was several miles away.

It was the first time in years that going back didn't feel like going home to the people I loved. Something had changed, and it no longer felt like I was returning to my family.

It felt like walking into the center of a trap.

He picked up his coat.

His phone rang again.

Victor.

Benedict looked at the name, his eyes fixed on it for a while, before he finally spoke up.

"Yes?"

Victor's voice was controlled.

"We need to talk."

"About the attack?"

"About everything."

Benedict's eyes hardened.

"Where?"

Victor hesitated.

"Ashcroft Manor."

Benedict looked toward the window again.

He already knew what his answer would be.

"I'll be there."

He ended the call.

Then he turned off the screens.

For twenty-five years, Benedict had lived with questions nobody would answer.

Something was pushing the Ashcroft to face what had happened before.

Benedict was determined to be present when it finally opened its doors.

Benedict arrived at Ashcroft Manor forty minutes later.

The gates opened before he reached them.

That single fact made him realize just how bad things were.

Security had doubled.

A couple of black cars were parked outside the main door, and some lawyers from Ashcroft's team were walking around the entrance hall, holding files close to their bodies.

Benedict stepped inside.

Eleanor was waiting.

She stared at him for a while, then finally said something.

"You came."

"Victor called."

"He has been waiting."

Benedict studied her face.

"You knew something like this would happen."

Eleanor's eyes shifted.

"I knew the past wouldn't stay buried forever."

Just as Benedict was about to say something, Victor suddenly showed up at the top of the stairs.

"Come."

Benedict followed him into the study.

Damian was already there.

The old family room felt different tonight.

Heavier.

Victor closed the door.

"No lawyers."

Benedict looked at him.

"Then tell me what you found."

Victor put the old file he had inherited on his desk.

Benedict opened it.

The pages were yellowed with age.

A succession agreement.

Property records.

A trust declaration.

And one section was deliberately removed.

Benedict touched the empty space.

"Someone cut out the beneficiary's name."

Victor nodded.

"Twenty-five years ago."

"Why?"

Victor didn't answer.

Damian stepped forward.

"Because someone wanted the heir erased."

Benedict looked at him.

"Who told you that?"

"I figured it out."

Benedict studied him.

Damian's expression was different tonight.

Less entitled.

More uncertain.

"Then you're beginning to ask the right questions."

Victor's voice hardened.

"This isn't the time."

Benedict closed the file.

"Actually, Victor, I think it is."

He looked directly at him.

"Someone has activated a trust that should have remained dormant."

Victor said nothing.

They are targeting your business, and the reason is that they want to revisit this particular file.

Still nothing.

What's really important is what you get from your family, not just the money.

Eleanor's eyes filled with tears.

Benedict noticed.

"What happened twenty-five years ago?"

Victor looked at his wife.

Then back at Benedict.

"We made a mistake."

Benedict's expression hardened.

"What kind?"

Victor's voice dropped.

"The kind that changes a family forever."

Just as Benedict was about to ask something else, the room was suddenly plunged into darkness, the lights flickering out without warning.

Damian turned toward the door.

"What's happening?"

A security alarm sounded somewhere in the house.

Then Benedict's phone vibrated.

One message appeared.

YOU'RE FINALLY HOME.

Benedict stared at it.

A second message followed.

NOW ASK THEM WHY THEY BURIED THE TRUTH.

He looked up at Victor and Eleanor, his eyes rising slowly to meet theirs.

Neither spoke.

It dawned on Benedict that the attack on Ashcroft Group was just the start of something bigger.

Magnus wasn't trying to destroy the company.

He was pushing the Ashcroft to unlock a secret they had kept hidden for twenty-five years.

And Benedict had just stepped through it.