Chapter 13 - HIS SIGNATURE
Victor stood in the study covered in dust and blood.
“That’s impossible.”
Ruiz looked at him.
“You sure?”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“After tonight? No. I’m not sure about anything.”
The transactions were real.
Millions of dollars had moved from Blackwood Holdings into companies linked to Project Mirror.
Every transfer carried Victor’s digital authorization.
Some were approved while Victor was overseas.
Some while he was asleep.
One had been approved the day Ethan was born.
Daniel pulled up system records.
“These credentials came from your executive account.”
Victor stared.
“Who had access?”
“You.”
“Someone else did.”
Daniel hesitated.
Victor saw the answer.
“Who?”
Daniel looked away.
“Claire.”
The room went silent.
Victor turned toward the doorway.
Claire stood there.
Pale.
Wrapped in a police blanket.
Her face changed when she heard her name.
“No.”
Victor walked toward her.
“Did you have access to my executive credentials?”
“Years ago.”
“When?”
“When I helped you during the merger.”
“Did you transfer money to these accounts?”
“No.”
Ruiz stepped closer.
“Mrs. Blackwood, we need to ask you some questions.”
Claire looked at Victor.
“You think I did this?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
Pain crossed her face.
Victor immediately regretted the words.
But they were true.
Claire had been gone three years.
Drugged.
Manipulated.
Possibly used.
She whispered, “They made me sign things.”
Ruiz froze.
“Who?”
“The doctors.”
“What doctors?”
“At the facility.”
Daniel pulled up the Blackwood transfers.
Several required biometric confirmation.
Victor looked at Claire.
“Fingerprints.”
She nodded.
“They used my hand when I was unconscious sometimes.”
Victor’s jaw clenched.
“Why?”
“I didn’t know.”
Ruiz asked, “Can you describe them?”
Claire named two.
Both were former employees of a Blackwood-funded medical contractor.
Then she said a third name.
Daniel’s face changed.
“Say that again.”
“Dr. Malcolm Reeves.”
Victor knew the name.
Everyone in Blackwood Holdings did.
Malcolm Reeves was chairman of the Blackwood Charitable Foundation.
Victor’s godfather.
His father’s oldest friend.
A man who had held Victor at his baptism.
A man who attended Claire’s funeral.
A man who had visited Ethan at the hospital after birth.
Victor’s hands went cold.
“Malcolm.”
Claire nodded.
“He came to the facility.”
“How often?”
“I don’t know. I was sedated a lot.”
Ruiz looked at Victor.
“Where is he now?”
Victor pulled out his phone.
Malcolm was scheduled to attend a foundation gala in Chicago.
Daniel checked.
Then his face went pale.
“He canceled this afternoon.”
“Reason?”
“Family emergency.”
Victor laughed once.
“Of course.”
Ruiz called for a statewide alert.
They searched Malcolm’s estate.
Empty.
His office.
Empty.
His private accounts.
Drained.
But one thing remained.
A scheduled email.
Addressed to Victor.
Set to send if Malcolm failed to log into the company system for twenty-four hours.
The email arrived at 4:17 a.m.
Victor opened it.
Victor,
If you are reading this, then Lauren failed.
Your father always said you were too emotional to inherit what he built.
I disagreed.
I believed pain would improve you.
Claire’s removal gave you focus.
Ethan gave you purpose.
Serena gave you vulnerability.
And Lauren gave us data.
Victor stopped reading.
His hand shook with rage.
Lily stood beside him.
“Keep going.”
He read.
Project Mirror was never about money.
It was about predictability.
Your father understood that powerful families do not collapse because of markets.
They collapse because of people.
People can be tested.
Pressured.
Replaced.
Controlled.
Victor nearly crushed the phone.
The last paragraph was worse.
Ethan was never the target.
You were.
And now I know exactly what kind of man you become when someone threatens your son.
Useful information.
Goodbye, Victor.
Victor looked at Ruiz.
“Find him.”
Ruiz said, “We’re trying.”
Victor shook his head.
“He’s not running randomly.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Malcolm worshiped my father.”
Victor looked around Charles’s study.
“He’ll go somewhere that matters.”
Claire whispered, “There was another house.”
Victor turned.
“What?”
“At the facility, Malcolm talked about a place Charles used before the manor.”
Victor frowned.
“My grandfather’s farm?”
Claire nodded.
“Virginia.”
Daniel was already searching property records.
The farm still belonged to a Blackwood trust.
Ruiz called a tactical team.
Victor grabbed his coat.
Lily blocked him.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You’ve been shot at, trapped, gassed, and nearly blown up.”
“So have you.”
“Exactly.”
Victor looked toward Claire.
Then toward the police car outside where Ethan slept under guard.
Lily lowered her voice.
“You don’t have to keep proving you can save everybody.”
Victor stared at her.
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Yes, it is.”
The words hit harder than he expected.
“You couldn’t save Claire three years ago because you didn’t know she needed saving.”
Victor looked away.
“You couldn’t protect Ethan from Serena because you didn’t see it.”
His jaw tightened.
“So now you’re trying to personally fix every mistake.”
Victor said nothing.
Lily stepped closer.
“That’s not protection.”
“What is it?”
“Guilt.”
Victor looked at her.
“And guilt makes people reckless.”
Claire walked over.
She took his hand.
“Stay.”
Victor looked at the woman he thought he had buried.
Then at Lily.
Then at Ethan beyond the window.
For the first time all night, Victor stepped away from the door.
“Ruiz goes.”
Ruiz nodded.
“We’ll bring Malcolm in.”
But Malcolm Reeves had no intention of being brought in.
When police reached the Virginia farm, the house was empty.
On the kitchen table sat a laptop.
The screen displayed a live video feed.
Ruiz called Victor.
“You need to see this.”
Victor opened the secure link.
The video showed the front gates of the hospital where Ethan had been taken.
Victor’s blood froze.
Then Malcolm’s face appeared on screen.
Smiling.
“You finally learned to stay with your family,” he said.
Victor stared.
Malcolm continued.
“I wondered how many dead women it would take.”
Victor’s face changed.
“Dead women?”
Malcolm smiled.
“Ask Evelyn what happened to your mother.”
May you like
The screen went black.
---
