Chapter 5 - The War for the Fortune
The next morning, the rain had stopped, leaving Philadelphia under a canopy of heavy gray clouds. Elena woke up on the sofa in Noah’s small, chaotic art studio apartment. The smell of oil paint and turpentine was thick in the air.
Before Noah could even make coffee, his phone began to ring violently on the kitchen counter. He picked it up, looking at the caller ID with a grim expression. He hit the speaker button.
"Noah!" Mason’s voice boomed through the small apartment, tight and frantic. "Where are you? Are you with the housekeeper?"
Noah shot Elena a warning look. "I’m at my apartment, Mason. And her name is Elena. Why are you calling me at seven in the morning?"
"All hell has broken loose at the estate," Mason said, his voice dropping into a tense whisper. "Dad didn't come to bed last night. Mom found him in his study at four in the morning, completely drunk, surrounded by old legal documents and a photo of Lily Vance. They had a screaming match that woke up the entire staff. Mom called the corporate lawyers. She’s threatening to file for divorce and invoke the infidelity clause in their prenuptial agreement."
Elena felt the blood drain from her face. The infidelity clause. If Catherine could prove Grant had an illegitimate child, she could potentially seize control of fifty percent of Whitmore Building Supply, fracturing the company her father had spent his entire life building.
"What does that have to do with me, Mason?" Noah asked coldly.
"Mom knows you drove her to the station, Noah! She thinks you’re hiding her. She’s saying that if Elena tries to extort the family for inheritance, she’ll have her blacklisted from every domestic agency in the country and arrested for the missing antique bracelet. Noah, if Dad loses control of the board, the Mercer family will take over the company. My future, your future—everything is on the line. If you know where that girl is, you need to tell me now."
Noah looked at Elena, seeing the terror in her gray eyes—the same gray eyes as the woman in his sketchbook.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Mason," Noah said deliberately. "I dropped her off at the bus station last night. I haven't seen her since. Tell Mom to stop losing her mind over a ghost."
Noah slammed the phone down, his breathing heavy. He turned to Elena. "We don't have much time. Mason is entirely on Mom’s side because he’s terrified of losing his position as vice president. Claire is in Chicago doing her residency, so she’s out of the loop. It’s just us."
"Noah, I don't want his money," Elena said, standing up, her voice trembling with emotion. "I don't care about Whitmore Building Supply. I just want to know if the man who watched me grow up for nine years without saying a word is actually my father. I want to know why my mother died alone in a charity clinic!"
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"Then we need proof," Noah said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small plastic bag containing a silver hairbrush. "I took this from Mom’s vanity before I left the house last night. And I have Dad’s old shaving razor from his private bathroom. We’re going to a private DNA laboratory downtown. I have a friend who works there. We pay for an expedited rush. We’ll have the answers in forty-eight hours."
Elena looked at the brush and the razor. The machinery of wealth was already turning against her, but for the first time in her life, she wasn't going to let herself be swept away like dust.
