Chapter 3 - FIVE MILLION DOLLARS TO DISAPPEAR
Charles Hawthorne looked genuinely stunned when I refused five million dollars.
That told me more about his family than any insult could have.
He had expected fear.
Or greed.
He had not expected me to say no.
Celeste stepped toward me.
“Eden, don’t turn this into some romantic performance.”
“My husband is in intensive care.”
“Your husband is nearly forty years older than you.”
“I was aware of his birthday when I married him.”
One of Gregory’s nephews snorted.
Celeste glared at him.
Charles pushed the annulment papers closer.
“You were married yesterday. Nobody would blame you.”
“For what?”
“For realizing you made a mistake.”
I looked around the room.
“Which mistake? Marrying Gregory, or surviving the night?”
Silence.
Celeste’s expression flickered.
There.
Small.
But I saw it.
Charles recovered first.
“You’re upset.”
“You’re offering me five million dollars before breakfast.”
“To protect you.”
I almost laughed.
“Everyone in this family seems very concerned with protecting me without ever asking what I want.”
His mouth tightened.
“Gregory’s condition may be serious.”
“He is alive.”
“If he remains incapacitated, your legal position becomes complicated.”
Finally.
The real conversation.
I sat.
“Explain it.”
Charles hesitated.
Celeste cut in.
“You don’t need to understand.”
I looked at her.
“That usually means I absolutely do.”
The waiting room door opened.
Naomi Keller entered.
Gregory’s attorney was fifty-four, silver-haired, sharp-eyed, and incapable of looking rushed even at seven in the morning.
She took one look at the documents.
“Interesting.”
Charles’s face darkened.
“This is family business.”
Naomi picked up the cashier’s check.
“Five million?”
Celeste said, “She doesn’t belong here.”
Naomi looked at me.
“You declined?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Charles slammed a palm on the table.
“Naomi.”
She turned toward him.
“Under Section Fourteen of the Hawthorne Family Voting Trust, Eden became temporary successor trustee at midnight.”
The room changed.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Naomi faced me.
“It means while Gregory is medically incapacitated, his trust voting authority passes to you.”
“How much authority?”
“Enough to prevent Charles from removing Gregory as chairman.”
Everyone began talking.
I raised my voice.
“Stop.”
They did.
Mostly because Gregory’s lawyer did not tell me to lower it.
I looked at Naomi.
“Does Gregory recover the authority if he wakes up?”
“Yes.”
“So this is temporary.”
“Yes.”
Charles laughed bitterly.
“If she doesn’t abuse it.”
“I don’t want your company.”
“Then sign.”
“No.”
His face reddened.
“Why?”
“Because someone changed Gregory’s medication.”
Silence.
Celeste answered too quickly.
“Doctors haven’t said that.”
“Gregory did.”
“He was confused.”
“He read the bottle.”
Charles looked at Naomi.
“This is exactly what we feared. She’s already inventing accusations.”
Naomi did not respond.
I reached into my purse.
The prescription bottle was inside a plastic hospital belongings bag.
“I took this from the room.”
Naomi’s eyes sharpened.
Charles stepped forward.
“That belongs to Gregory.”
“So does the marriage you’re trying to erase.”
Naomi held out her hand.
I gave her the bag.
She read the label.
“Metoprolol.”
“That isn’t what Gregory called it.”
“He takes dofetilide.”
I felt cold.
“What happens if those are mixed up?”
Naomi looked toward Charles.
“Depends on the dosage.”
Celeste spoke sharply.
“People confuse bottles.”
“Gregory didn’t pack his medication,” I said.
Everyone looked at me.
“The inn did.”
Charles frowned.
“What?”
“His assistant sent everything ahead. Gregory told me yesterday.”
Naomi was already dialing.
“Who had access to the suite?”
The inn’s manager provided a list within forty minutes.
Housekeeping.
Gregory’s personal assistant.
The wedding coordinator.
Two family representatives authorized to inspect the room before the ceremony.
Their names:
Celeste Hawthorne.
And Charles Hawthorne.
Charles laughed when Naomi showed him.
“We checked flowers and security.”
Celeste added, “This is ridiculous.”
Maybe.
But neither looked amused anymore.
At nine that morning, a cardiologist told me Gregory was stable.
At ten, I was permitted to see him for exactly three minutes.
He looked smaller beneath hospital blankets.
That scared me more than anything.
His eyes opened when I touched his hand.
“Eden.”
“I’m here.”
“You should be angry.”
“I am.”
His mouth moved faintly.
“Good.”
“Your family offered me five million dollars.”
His eyes sharpened despite the medication.
“Cheap.”
I laughed unexpectedly.
Then cried.
Gregory squeezed my hand.
“I’m sorry.”
“You nearly died.”
“I mean for not telling you.”
“We’ll discuss that later.”
His expression softened.
“You stayed.”
“Apparently I’m worth temporary voting authority now.”
He closed his eyes.
“Oh.”
“You forgot that part?”
“I hoped Naomi would explain it more elegantly.”
“She did. Charles used fewer nice words.”
Gregory tried to sit up.
I stopped him.
“Don’t.”
“Eden, listen.”
“I’m listening.”
“There’s a black ledger in my townhouse.”
“A ledger?”
“Study.”
“Where?”
“Behind the photograph of my sister.”
“What does it contain?”
His breathing slowed.
“The reason they’re afraid of you.”
“Who?”
But Gregory’s eyes were closing.
A nurse stepped inside.
“You need to let him rest.”
I leaned closer.
“Gregory. Who is afraid?”
His lips moved.
“Everyone who thought I’d die unmarried.”
Then he fell asleep.
I returned to the waiting room.
Charles and Celeste were gone.
Naomi remained.
She looked worried.
“Where did they go?”
“They left twenty minutes ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Charles received a call.”
“About what?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
I looked at Gregory’s belongings.
Then at the city outside.
“Gregory told me about a ledger.”
Naomi went still.
“What ledger?”
“At his townhouse.”
Her reaction told me she knew something.
“Naomi.”
“I know he was keeping records privately.”
“Of what?”
“Payments.”
“What payments?”
She lowered her voice.
“Gregory believed Hawthorne Meridian had been paying fake construction companies for years.”
I remembered the eighty-four million dollars.
“Who approved them?”
“Several executives.”
“Family?”
“Yes.”
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
A photograph appeared.
Gregory’s Manhattan townhouse.
Front door open.
Another image.
His study.
Drawers pulled out.
Papers scattered across the floor.
Then a message.
YOU SHOULD HAVE TAKEN THE FIVE MILLION.
A second message followed.
LEAVE BEFORE GREGORY WAKES UP, OR YOUR PARENTS LEARN WHAT IT COSTS TO HAVE A DAUGHTER IN THE HAWTHORNE FAMILY.
My knees weakened.
Naomi read the screen.
“Call the police.”
“I’m calling my mother.”
She answered on the second ring.
“Eden?”
“Mom, where are you?”
“At work. Why?”
“Dad?”
“Home.”
“Lock the doors.”
Silence.
“What happened?”
“Just do it.”
Then I heard something behind her.
A man’s voice.
My mother stopped speaking.
“Mom?”
No answer.
“Mom?”
The line went dead.
And suddenly five million dollars did not feel like an offer.
May you like
It felt like a warning I had already refused.
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