Chapter 5 - THE BROTHER WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD
Z
Preston held Nathaniel carefully against his chest.
The baby was awake but quiet, wrapped in a navy blanket. He stared up at Preston with the solemn confusion of a child who could not understand why the adults around him had turned his life into a weapon.
Weston took another drink.
“Touching, isn’t it?”
I looked from one brother to the other.
“Did you bring Nathaniel here?”
Preston nodded. “I took him from Camille’s mother before Weston’s people arrived.”
“Then why did Weston claim he had him?”
“Because he knew Camille would believe it.”
Weston smiled without warmth.
“And because I knew you’d come.”
My hidden microphone suddenly felt heavy against my skin. If Gideon was right, federal agents were listening from outside the estate.
I needed Weston to talk.
“You framed me for the stolen money,” I said.
“I prepared options.”
“That isn’t a denial.”
“You inherited Elliott’s shares. You also inherited his liabilities.”
Preston shifted Nathaniel to his other arm.
“Tell her the truth.”
Weston’s smile disappeared.
“You don’t get to give orders in this house. You lost that privilege when you betrayed your family.”
“You tried to murder me.”
“You were weak. There’s a difference.”
The cruelty in his voice was effortless.
I thought of the man who had held my hand during labor and wondered whether any part of that husband had ever existed.
“Did you kill Uncle Elliott?” I asked.
Weston studied me.
“No.”
Preston’s jaw tightened.
“You caused his death.”
“That old man had a bad heart.”
“You broke into his house and threatened Sable.”
My blood turned cold.
Weston shrugged.
“He refused to hand over the partnership agreement. I reminded him that accidents happen to people he loves.”
I forced myself not to react.
“What happened next?”
“He became agitated. He collapsed before I touched him.”
“And you left him there,” Preston said.
“I called an ambulance.”
“Forty minutes later.”
The room went silent.
That delay had killed Uncle Elliott as surely as a weapon might have.
Weston walked to the desk and placed his glass beside a stack of documents.
“Enough history. Sable will sign her shares over to me. Preston will surrender the evidence he collected. Then he’ll disappear again.”
“And Nathaniel?” I asked.
“He’ll remain a Callaway.”
“He is a Callaway,” Preston said. “He’s mine.”
Weston’s face twisted.
“You don’t deserve a son.”
“And you rejected your daughter before she was three hours old.”
For the first time, Weston lost control.
He swept the glass from the desk. It shattered against the wall.
“Marlo complicated everything!”
The words struck me harder than shouting ever could.
“She was your child.”
“She was an obstacle. Camille was pregnant with what everyone believed was my son. My father had already decided the boy would inherit his voting block. If I acknowledged Marlo while the audit was closing in, you would have gained leverage through the marriage.”
“So you planned to erase us.”
“I planned to provide for you.”
“Like employees you were terminating.”
Weston opened a drawer and removed a handgun.
Preston stepped in front of Nathaniel.
Outside, nothing moved.
No sirens.
No agents.
My microphone had either failed or the estate was blocking its signal.
Weston pointed the weapon at Preston.
“Put the baby in the car seat.”
“Weston,” I said carefully, “if you hurt him, there’s no agreement that can protect you.”
“The agreement is irrelevant once you’re implicated in the fraud.”
He nodded toward the papers on the desk.
They were a confession prepared in my name. The document claimed I had created Mercer Strategic Solutions under Uncle Elliott’s direction and had manipulated Weston into approving false invoices.
There was another paper beneath it.
A voluntary surrender of my shares.
“Sign both,” he said, “or your daughter grows up without you.”
I looked at the signature line.
Then I picked up the pen.
Preston stared at me in disbelief.
“Sable, don’t.”
“I’m not leaving Marlo’s future to chance.”
Weston relaxed slightly.
That was his second mistake.
The pen Gideon had given me contained a miniature transmitter with an emergency alarm. I pressed the clip twice.
Nothing happened.
Weston noticed.
He crossed the room and struck the pen from my hand.
“You think I don’t know my father’s tricks?”
He grabbed my wrist and forced me toward the desk.
Then every light in the mansion went out.
Nathaniel began to cry.
A gunshot exploded through the darkness.
I dropped to the floor.
Someone crashed into the desk. Glass broke, men shouted, and Nathaniel’s cries moved toward the hidden passage.
Emergency lights flickered on.
Preston was gone.
Weston lay beside the desk with blood spreading across his shoulder. The gun had fallen several feet away.
Gideon stood in the library doorway holding another weapon.
“I told you fear would make him careless,” he said.
Federal agents flooded the room behind him.
Weston laughed through clenched teeth.
“You chose them over me.”
Gideon lowered his gun.
“No. I chose the company over you years ago. Tonight, I finally chose my family.”
Agents secured Weston and called for medics. Another team followed Preston through the hidden passage and confirmed that he and Nathaniel were safe.
As Weston was lifted onto a stretcher, he turned his head toward me.
“You think this ends with me?”
“It ends with the truth.”
“No,” he whispered. “It ends when they discover Elliott’s final secret.”
The medics carried him away.
An agent handed me the documents from the desk, including the false confession Weston had tried to force me to sign.
Beneath them was a sealed letter addressed to Gideon.
The handwriting belonged to Uncle Elliott.
Gideon opened it with trembling hands.
After reading the first page, he sat down heavily.
“What does it say?” I asked.
He looked up at me, and the powerful Gideon Callaway suddenly seemed very old.
“Elliott wasn’t only your uncle.”
My heart stopped.
May you like
Gideon turned the letter so I could see the final line.
Sable is my daughter, and she is the rightful heir to everything we built.
