Chapter 3 - The Ghost of Iris Callahan
By 6:00 PM, the rain had turned into a relentless, icy sheets that blurred the lights of the Space Needle. Marcus’s private penthouse apartment on First Avenue felt less like a luxury home and more like a tactical command center. Wren had finally fallen asleep in the guest room, exhausted from days of running, clutching a stuffed bear Renee had bought for her.
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Adrian Voss stepped out. The corporate attorney looked completely unraveled. His tie was loosened, his pristine hair disheveled by the wind, and he carried a locked leather briefcase.
"Marcus," Adrian began, pacing across the hardwood floor without taking off his coat. "You need to drop this. Hand the girl over to Child Protective Services immediately and walk away."
Marcus stood by the fireplace, pouring two glasses of neat bourbon. He didn't offer one to his lawyer. "You’ve been my legal counsel for twelve years, Adrian. You helped me build Whitfield Harbor. I’ve never seen you sweat over a child placement charity."
"Because you don't know who owns Haven Bridge," Adrian snapped, dropping the briefcase onto the kitchen island. "It’s a front, Marcus. It’s managed by a shell company controlled by Thomas Sterling."
The name hit the room like a physical blow. Thomas Sterling was the billionaire CEO of Sterling Logistics, Marcus's fiercest rival, and the man currently trying to outbid him for the Northline acquisition.
The Hidden Extortion"Seven years ago, when Iris left you, she didn't just walk away," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "She was pregnant. She went to a clinic in Oregon to escape your family's shadow. Somehow, Sterling’s intelligence people found her. They leveraged her financial debts, forced her into hiding, and when she got sick two years ago, they moved the children into Haven Bridge."
Marcus took a step forward, his shadow towering over the lawyer. "Why? Why would Sterling care about my children?"
"Because of your grandfather’s trust fund, Marcus!" Adrian yelled, his hands shaking. "The Whitfield Harbor legacy clause states that if you die without a recognized biological heir, forty percent of your corporate shares automatically default to the secondary board members—which Sterling secretly bought out last year. If your kids don't exist to the world, Sterling takes your empire the moment you step down."
Marcus grabbed Adrian by the lapels of his suit, slamming him against the marble island. The glass of bourbon shattered on the floor.
"And you knew?" Marcus hissed, his voice dangerously low. "You knew I had a son and a daughter out there, and you kept it from me to protect the Northline deal?"
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"I was protecting you!" Adrian choked out. "Sterling threatened to destroy the company if the truth came out before the acquisition! I didn't know they were neglecting the kids, Marcus! I swear to God, I thought Haven Bridge was safe!"
Marcus released him with a look of pure disgust. "Get out of my sight, Adrian. Before I forget that we used to be friends."
