Chapter 2 - The Brother at the Gate
Marcus’s black sedan stopped beneath the front portico three minutes before the police arrived.
He stepped from the car wearing the charcoal suit he always wore when he wanted to look respectable.
For years, that suit had made investors trust him.
Tonight, it made him look like a man dressed for his own arraignment.
“Do not let him upstairs,” I told security.
Marcus entered anyway.
He had grown up in this house.
He knew every passage.
Every staircase.
Every weakness in the security system.
He stopped when he saw Victoria restrained near the foyer.
“Jesus.”
Victoria glared at him.
“You took your time.”
Marcus ignored her.
His eyes found me.
“Daniel, we need to talk privately.”
“No.”
“This is family.”
“So is Noah.”
Marcus looked toward my son.
Noah immediately moved behind Grace.
That tiny movement hurt more than anything Marcus could have said.
My brother had been Uncle Marcus.
The man who brought Noah birthday gifts.
The man who took him fishing.
The man who had promised Emily he would always protect him.
“Why is he scared of you?” I asked.
Marcus’s expression hardened.
“He’s five.”
“He’s scared of everything.”
Grace stepped forward.
“No.”
Her voice was quiet.
“He became afraid of you three months ago.”
Marcus glanced at her.
“You really need to stop talking.”
I moved between them.
“Do not threaten her.”
“I’m not threatening anybody.”
“You signed a petition to take my son.”
Marcus exhaled.
“I signed a draft.”
“Before Emily died.”
His face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
Victoria saw it too.
“You never told him about the first petition, did you?” she asked.
Marcus turned sharply.
“Shut up.”
I looked from one to the other.
“What first petition?”
Grace suddenly remembered something.
She returned to Emily’s desk and removed another folder.
Inside was a photocopy of a sealed family court filing.
The date was six weeks before Emily’s death.
The petitioner wasn’t Marcus.
It was Emily.
My wife had filed for emergency protection over Noah.
Against someone identified only by initials.
M.H.
Marcus Hale.
The room seemed to tilt beneath me.
Marcus stared at the document.
Then at me.
“She misunderstood.”
“What?”
“She misunderstood what was happening.”
“What was happening?”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Daniel, your wife was sick.”
The sentence ignited something inside me.
“Do not say that.”
“She was paranoid.”
“She thought everyone was coming after Noah’s trust.”
“Because you were.”
“No.”
Marcus stepped closer.
“I was trying to stop someone else.”
Victoria laughed.
Marcus spun toward her.
“I said shut up.”
Police officers entered the foyer.
Victoria’s smile vanished.
One officer approached her while another moved toward Marcus.
Marcus raised his hands.
“I’m not resisting.”
I looked at him.
“Then start talking.”
He swallowed.
“Emily discovered missing money from the Hale Foundation.”
“How much?”
“Almost four million.”
My pulse pounded.
“And?”
“She thought I stole it.”
“Did you?”
Marcus looked toward Victoria.
“No.”
“She did.”
Victoria went completely still.
Marcus continued.
“But she wasn’t working alone.”
My voice came out as a whisper.
“Who?”
Before Marcus could answer, every light in the estate went dark.
Noah screamed.
Grace grabbed him.
I heard glass break upstairs.
Then security shouted through the darkness.
May you like
“Someone’s in the west wing!”
Emily’s bedroom was in the west wing.
