Chapter 5 - The War Room
While Maya slept under the care of a team of private physicians and top pediatric specialists brought in to treat her malnutrition, William turned his home into a command center.
By midnight, the library of Hartwell Manor was filled with six of New York’s most ruthless corporate litigators, private investigators, and forensic accountants.
"I want everything," William ordered, standing behind his mahogany desk, his face carved of stone. "I want every wire transfer made by Eleanor Hartwell over the past decade. I want every communication between her, Beatrice Vance, and the medical staff who treated Clara in upstate New York."
"William," cautioned Arthur Pendelton, senior partner at Pendelton & Gates and a family friend for thirty years. "Eleanor is your mother. She still controls thirty percent of the voting shares in Hartwell Financial. If you launch a full-scale legal assault against her, the board will panic. The market value of the firm could plummet by billions."
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"Let it burn," William said, his voice dangerously level. "She let my daughter sell flowers in the rain while she sat in her penthouse on Park Avenue. She forced Clara to die in poverty while holding my bloodline in secrecy. I don't care about the board. I don't care about the stock price. I am going to strip Eleanor Hartwell of every title, every dollar, and every shred of respect she holds in this city."
The lawyers exchanged uneasy glances, recognizing that the calm man standing before them was far more dangerous than any volatile titan they had ever represented. William Hartwell was no longer playing business. He was hunting.
