Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Grass
The battle lines were drawn. Melissa wasn't just contented with stealing my father’s life and wealth; she was moving to take my entire corporate empire out from under me while I was distracted.
I called Marcus back immediately using a scrambled connection.
“Marcus, what’s happening at the office?” I demanded in a hushed tone.
“Ethan! Thank God,” Marcus gasped over the line. “Melissa brought a certified court order signed by Judge Vance. She presented evidence claiming you have been mentally compromised by severe depression and substance abuse over the past month. She’s claiming you abandoned the business!”
“It’s a lie!” I growled, pacing the wooden floorboards. “I’ve been working sixteen-hour days!”
“She has medical records, Ethan!” Marcus yelled. “She has signatures from a private doctor certifying that you’ve been undergoing emergency psychiatric treatment. The board is terrified! If you don't show up at the shareholder emergency summit tomorrow morning at 9:00 AM, she automatically assumes interim voting control of the entire enterprise!”
I looked back at Hannah, who was sitting beside my father, softly reading him a newspaper.
“She pulled the trap,” I murmured. “She knew I’d go missing once I found out about Dad.”
Hannah looked up from the paper, her sharp mind immediately grasping the play. “She didn't know you found Walter, Ethan. She thinks you fell into panic mode because of the corporate leak she staged two days ago. She set a double trap.”
“If I show up tomorrow,” I said, analyzing the board dynamics, “she’ll have security detain me under the psychiatric hold order. If I don't show up, she gets the company.”
“Unless,” Hannah said, standing up and walking toward me, her eyes gleaming with a fierce, brilliant light I hadn't seen in years, “you don't go there to defend yourself. You go there to execute a execution.”
“What do you mean?”
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“Your sister built her entire empire of lies on paper,” Hannah said, pulling out her black leather notebook. “For three years, while I was living on the streets, I didn't just collect plastic bottles, Ethan. I collected records. I tracked every single dummy corporation Melissa registered in North and South Carolina. I know where she buried the stolen two million dollars—and I know which doctor she paid to sign those fake psychiatric reports.”
I stared at my ex-wife in absolute awe. While I had been drowning in corporate hubris, she had been operating as a brilliant, silent strategist in the dark.
