The Masked Tycoon

CHAPTER THREE

“Found something.”

Victor’s voice carried a thrill as he entered his father’s study the next morning. Robert was already there, scrolling through market reports. Miranda sipped coffee like she owned the world despite last night’s scare.

Robert didn’t look up. “Talk.”

Victor dropped a folder on the desk. “Your favorite son-in-law isn’t as clean as he looks. Orphan, no real records before age twenty-one. But that’s not the best part he has no financial footprint. None. No debts, no loans, nothing. It’s like he didn’t exist before marrying Elena.”

Miranda frowned. “So? Maybe he’s just poor.”

Victor grinned. “Poor men don’t get Stonecliff to retreat overnight.”

Robert leaned back, interested now. “Where did you get this?”

“Friend at City Hall. I ran a deep scan. Something’s off. It’s like someone wiped his past.”

Miranda’s eyes sharpened. “Wiped? Why?”

Victor smirked. “Exactly the question. And guess what? He’s been spotted entering a private building downtown security so tight you’d think the President was inside. I had a guy tail him last night. Couldn’t even get close.”

Robert’s fingers tapped the desk. “So he’s hiding something.”

Miranda’s voice was sharp. “Elena must know.”

“She doesn’t,” Victor said. “She looked ready to faint last night. He’s been playing the quiet husband act. And now? Suddenly he’s got people bowing to him. That’s not poverty that’s power.”

Robert closed the folder. “Find out everything. Call in our private investigator. I want to know who he talks to, where he goes, what he eats. If he has secrets, we’ll expose them.”

Victor’s grin widened. “Gladly.”

Across the city, Leonard stood at a window in a quiet office, staring at the skyline. His phone buzzed.

“Report,” he said.

A voice answered, calm and respectful. “Stonecliff is quiet for now. But their leader won’t accept defeat. We intercepted a call they’re hiring outside help.”

“Assassins?”

“Possibly. Or corporate spies. Either way, they want leverage. And… there’s another matter. Westwood’s son has someone tailing you.”

Leonard’s mouth curved faintly. “Good. Let him dig. The deeper he goes, the less he’ll like what he finds.”

“Should we intervene?”

“Not yet. Let them underestimate me a little longer. Sometimes fear is stronger than force.”

That afternoon, Elena confronted him in their small living room.

“Leonard, this can’t go on.”

He glanced up from his phone. “What can’t?”

“Don’t do that,” she snapped. “Pretend you’re clueless. Last night you called someone and suddenly my family’s crisis vanished. Who are you really?”

He studied her quietly, then put the phone down. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters! I’ve defended you to them when I didn’t even believe you myself. Now I see things that don’t make sense. I need the truth.”

His expression didn’t change. “You want the truth?”

“Yes.”

He stood, closing the distance between them. “The truth is this, Elena you were all happy when I was silent. Your brother laughed, your mother insulted me, your father ignored me. Did you ever once tell them to stop?”

“I ”

“Did you?” His voice sharpened.

Elena swallowed. “No. But I’m asking now.”

He held her gaze. “The only thing you need to know is that when the Westwoods fall, it won’t be because of me. It will be because of themselves. Stay out of it, Elena. Or choose a side.”

She stared at him, stunned. “A side? What does that mean?”

But he’d already turned away.

That night, Victor’s investigator finally got something.

“Sir,” the man whispered over the phone, “your brother-in-law met with someone very high profile tonight. The CEO of Harlow Bank. They spoke privately, no security cameras allowed. And sir… the CEO called him ‘Chairman Kane.’”

Victor froze. “Chairman? Kane?”

“Yes, sir. He seemed… important.”

Victor hung up, his hand trembling. Then he smiled. “So that’s your game, Leonard. Let’s see how long you can hide it.”

But Leonard was already moving pieces.

At a dimly lit restaurant, he sat across from an older man with sharp eyes.

“They’re sniffing around,” Leonard said.

“Let them sniff,” the man replied. “When do you want to move?”

“Not yet. First, Stonecliff. They still owe me blood.”

“And the Westwoods?”

Leonard’s voice was calm but cold. “They’ll get what they deserve. But not before they learn what it means to lose everything they worship.”