Chapter 8: The Will
Chapter 8: The Will
Rain hammered the city before sunrise.
Claire stood alone in her office, her father's handwritten note resting beside the brass compass.
If anything happens to me, never trust Blackwood.
She had read the sentence at least twenty times.
Each time, it raised more questions than answers.
Why hadn't he gone to the police?
Why hide the warning inside a compass?
And why leave it where only she could find it?
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
Olivia stepped inside carrying a slim archival box.
"I found something in storage."
Claire looked up.
"What is it?"
"Your father's personal files."
"I thought they were transferred after his funeral."
"So did everyone else."
Olivia placed the box on the desk.
"They were mislabeled."
Claire opened it carefully.
Inside were old board minutes, handwritten notes, photographs...
And one sealed envelope.
Across the front, in her father's unmistakable handwriting, were six words.
For Claire. Open only if necessary.
Claire's heartbeat slowed.
"It became necessary."
She broke the seal.
Inside was a single-page letter.
Claire,
If you're reading this, then someone has finally made a move against our family. I hoped I was wrong. I rarely was.
There are people who believe Bennett Strategic Holdings is worth more broken apart than protected. They won't attack directly. They'll use trusted faces, legal paperwork, and people you love.
If they ever try to steal control of the company, do not rely on appearances. Some enemies will look like friends. Some friends will appear guilty.
The truth is hidden inside the original family trust.
Do not let anyone probate a newer version of my will.
The original is the only one that matters.
Love always,
Dad
Claire slowly lowered the letter.
Olivia stared at her.
"There was another will?"
Claire nodded.
"My father updated his estate once every five years."
"So which version was used?"
"I don't know."
"But I'm about to find out."
Within an hour, Claire and Olivia arrived at the county probate courthouse.
The records clerk recognized Claire immediately.
"Mrs. Bennett."
"I need to review the estate file for Jonathan Bennett."
The clerk typed for several moments.
Then frowned.
"That's strange."
"What?"
"There are two wills on record."
Claire's stomach tightened.
"Show me."
The clerk placed both files on the counter.
One had been filed twelve years earlier.
The second...
Only eighteen months ago.
Three weeks after Jonathan Bennett's death.
Claire opened the newer document first.
Everything appeared normal until she reached the final page.
The signature.
It looked authentic.
Almost.
She compared it with the original will.
The differences were subtle.
The same kind of subtle flaws she'd already seen in her own forged signature.
Claire looked up.
"Who submitted this version?"
The clerk checked the filing history.
"It was delivered by Attorney Daniel Mercer."
Claire closed her eyes briefly.
Another piece of the puzzle.
Or another piece meant to look like one.
As they left the courthouse, Claire's phone vibrated.
Marcus.
"I've got something."
"I'm listening."
"We ran the fingerprints from the hidden compartment under Grant's desk."
"You found prints?"
"Partial ones."
"And?"
"They don't belong to Grant."
Claire stopped walking.
"Whose are they?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Your father's."
Claire frowned.
"That can't be."
"They're from years ago."
"He was the last confirmed person to handle that compartment before you."
Claire looked back toward the courthouse.
"My father hid the flash drive."
Marcus corrected her.
"No."
"The compartment was opened long before the flash drive was placed inside."
Claire's mind raced.
"So someone reused his hiding place."
"Exactly."
That afternoon, Grant requested a meeting.
Claire agreed.
They met in a quiet conference room at company headquarters.
Grant looked exhausted.
His suit was wrinkled.
His eyes were bloodshot.
"You wanted to talk," Claire said.
He nodded.
"I think things have gone too far."
"They have."
"I never wanted this."
Claire remained expressionless.
"What exactly didn't you want?"
"The investigation."
She noticed his choice of words.
Not the affair.
Not the divorce.
The investigation.
Grant leaned forward.
"If you stop looking into the company..."
Claire almost laughed.
"...we can settle everything privately."
She folded her hands.
"Who told you to say that?"
Grant froze.
"I don't know what you mean."
"You didn't come here to negotiate."
She held his gaze.
"You came to deliver a message."
His silence confirmed it.
Claire stood.
"Tell whoever sent you..."
She paused.
"...that I'm done accepting messages."
"The next communication can come through federal prosecutors."
Grant's face drained of color.
"You don't understand who you're dealing with."
Claire walked toward the door.
"No."
Without turning around, she answered quietly.
"You don't understand who you're threatening."
That evening, Marcus arrived with another report.
He laid several surveillance photos across Claire's desk.
Grant entering an office building.
Vanessa following fifteen minutes later.
Then...
Daniel Mercer.
Finally...
The silver-haired man known only as Blackwood.
All four entered separately.
None of them left for nearly three hours.
Marcus pointed toward the building.
"Private offices."
"Who leases them?"
"A holding company."
Claire wasn't surprised.
"Anonymous?"
Marcus nodded.
"But one thing doesn't make sense."
"What?"
He enlarged one photograph.
Blackwood was shaking hands with Daniel Mercer.
Daniel didn't look comfortable.
He looked frightened.
Claire studied the image carefully.
Fear.
Not partnership.
Not confidence.
Fear.
She looked up.
"I don't think Daniel is running this."
Marcus crossed his arms.
"You think he's being forced?"
"I think he's trapped."
"Can you prove it?"
Claire's eyes settled on the old letter from her father.
"Not yet."
"But I think Monday's board meeting is about more than stealing my company."
Marcus frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Claire slid the original will across the desk.
"If my father was right..."
She tapped the final line.
"...someone has been trying to erase this family's history for years."
At that exact moment, Olivia rushed into the office without knocking.
She was pale.
"They've moved the board meeting."
Claire stood immediately.
"When?"
Olivia struggled to catch her breath.
"They moved it..."
"...to tomorrow morning."
The room fell silent.
Whoever was behind the conspiracy had changed the timetable.
May you like
They knew Claire was getting closer.
And they were no longer willing to wait until Monday.
