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Chapter 35:The daughter's plea
Ethan’s eyes scanned the fine print of the Crown Street property contracts, his pen hovering over a clause about zoning restrictions. The office door swung open with a sharp click against the frame—no knock, no warning.Natalie Morrison stood on the threshold.Her eyes were raw and puffed, the skin beneath them stained pink from hours of tears. Strands of hair had escaped her ponytail, falling in limp wisps across her forehead. She wore faded jeans and a cotton shirt that had been wrinkled in a ball somewhere; not a single trace of the polished woman he’d once taken to galas and charity dinners remained.“Security let you up?” Ethan kept his gaze on the documents spread before him, his voice even.“I told them my father was having a heart attack.” Her words came rough and ragged, as if her throat were lined with sandpaper. “I need to talk to you. Now.”“No, we don’t.”“Ethan please—”“You should leave, Natalie. Before I call security back to walk you out.”She crossed the room in thre
Chapter 34:The Reckoning
Ethan got to Kidman Industries at 5:47 AM. Most of the building was dark, just security lights and a few early birds already at work. He rode up to the executive floor in silence, watching the city wake up below.By six, the war room was set.Vincent sat at the head of the table—sharp and alert for a seventy-year-old. Rebecca was next to him, typing fast on her laptop. Three lawyers Ethan didn’t know were there too, from the firm that handled their crises."Morning," Vincent said, almost cheerful. "Heard we’re moving things up.""Richard Morrison did an interview last night. Called me a liar who set up his son and played with his daughter’s feelings." Ethan sat down, moving carefully, like he was working on something precise. "So yeah—we’re moving up."One of the lawyers, a sharp woman in her fifties, pulled up a file on the screen. "We’ve got three sets of stuff to release: money crimes, personal mistakes, and business lies. The question is how much to put out and how quick.""All of
Chapter 33:Dinner and Deception
Charlotte's apartment was smaller than Ethan expected. Not tiny, but modest—a renovated loft in a converted factory building, exposed brick and high ceilings, furnished with clean lines and comfortable pieces that looked lived-in rather than designer-perfect.Human. That's what it felt like. Human."Wine?" Charlotte called from the kitchen area, pulling a bottle from the fridge."Please."Ethan stood by the windows, looking out over the city. From this height, the lights looked almost peaceful. Hard to believe the same streets held so much complexity. So much pain and power wrapped together.Charlotte appeared beside him, holding two glasses. "You're thinking too hard. I can literally see the gears turning.""Sorry. Workday.""I know the feeling." She handed him a glass, their fingers brushing. Deliberate. "But we agreed—no work talk tonight. Just dinner. Just us.""Just us," Ethan repeated, tasting the words. When was the last time he'd been "just" anything?They moved to the small d
Chapter 32: A Patchwork of Hope
The room on the forty-third floor was plain. No fancy logos, no artwork trying to look important, just simple furniture that felt comfortable. Ethan had asked for it this way. This wasn't about showing off; it was about finding answers.Five people were already there, waiting. Each represented someone who still claimed to own part of the Crown Street land. They seemed tired and annoyed.Ethan walked in right on time, with Rebecca following quietly. He'd worn a regular suit, not too flashy, but still looked good. He wanted to make a good impression."Thanks for coming," he said, taking a seat. "I know this whole situation has been a headache. I'm hoping we can find a way to move forward today that makes sense for everyone."A man in his fifties, Thomas Chen, the brother-in-law of one of the owners, spoke first, sounding angry. "My sister-in-law already gave up her claim. Did you pay her off? Because if you're trying to get us to quit one by one—""Mrs. Chen gave up her claim because I
Chapter 31: The past rewritten
At eight AM, Vincent's office felt colder than usual. Not in temperature—the thermostat was set just as it always was—but in the air itself. The old man sat behind his massive desk, still as stone in the quiet before a storm.Ethan came in and shut the door. "You wanted to see me.""Sit."Ethan took the chair across from him, holding his grandfather's gaze steady. He’d learned early on that showing weakness around Vincent was like bleeding in water full of sharks.Vincent studied him for what felt like a long time, his blue eyes sharp and searching. "Lorenzo Bianco called me last night. Midnight. Woke me up to complain about how 'disrespectful' you were at yesterday's meeting.""I turned down his proposal. That's business, not disrespect.""You told him his offer was one-sided, then walked out when he tried to threaten you.""Both true."Vincent’s lips barely moved—not quite a smile, but close. "He’s been making calls all morning. Painting himself as the victim of some arrogant young
30
The next morning, Ethan met Mrs. Chen at a small café near her home. She was sixty-three, gray-haired, wearing clothes that had been expensive once but were now worn from age and washing. "Mr. Kidman," she said, shaking his hand with surprising strength. "Thank you for meeting with me." "Thank you for agreeing to talk." Ethan ordered coffee for both of them. "I know the Crown Street property situation has been difficult for you." Mrs. Chen's expression tightened. "Difficult is a kind word. My husband invested our life savings in that property. The developer promised returns, promised transparency, promised everything. Then he disappeared with our money and left us with nothing but worthless paperwork." "I've reviewed your claim. Legally, it's one of the weaker ones." "I know." Mrs. Chen's voice was bitter. "My lawyer explained that. The documentation my husband signed wasn't legally binding. We have no recourse. But morally—morally, Mr. Kidman, we were defrauded. That should mean
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