Chapter 8 - THE WAR FOR BLACKRIDGE
The federal investigation exploded three months later.
Grant Holloway disappeared.
Madeline Cross vanished from public life.
Blackridge's stock collapsed.
Employees panicked.
Nathaniel offered me a job.
I refused.
He smiled.
“Good.”
I stared at him.
“Good?”
“I didn't want you to accept because you're afraid to say no.”
“You're strange.”
“I've been told.”
Instead, I accepted a position as an independent financial consultant.
For the first time, I earned money under my own name.
Nathaniel never interfered.
Then Grant came back.
He kidnapped Madeline.
And he demanded the trust documents.
Nathaniel received the call at midnight.
I was with him.
A distorted voice spoke.
“You have twenty-four hours.”
Nathaniel remained calm.
“What do you want?”
“The trust.”
“You can't access it.”
“I don't need to.”
The caller laughed.
“Her does.”
I looked at Nathaniel.
The voice continued:
“Bring Elena.”
Nathaniel's eyes went cold.
“No.”
The call ended.
I stood.
“He has Madeline.”
“I know.”
“We have to help her.”
“Yes.”
“Then I'll go.”
“No.”
“She's innocent.”
“So are you.”
“I can go.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“I'm not your property.”
His jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“Then let me choose.”
Silence.
Finally he said:
“Fine.”
“But?”
“But you're not going alone.”
We went to the abandoned Blackridge mill.
The same place where my father had worked.
Grant stood inside.
Madeline was tied to a chair.
He smiled.
“You came.”
I stepped forward.
“Let her go.”
Grant laughed.
“You sound like your father.”
My heart stopped.
“You knew him.”
“I did.”
“You killed him.”
“Yes.”
Nathaniel's expression hardened.
Grant continued.
“He thought honesty mattered.”
“And you think money matters.”
“No.”
Grant smiled.
“Power matters.”
Nathaniel stepped forward.
“You're finished.”
Grant shook his head.
“Not yet.”
He pulled out a folder.
Inside were the trust documents.
My father's handwriting.
My name.
Grant looked at me.
“Sign.”
I stared.
“What?”
“Transfer everything.”
I took the pen.
Nathaniel said:
“Elena, don't.”
I looked at him.
Then at Grant.
And smiled.
“You made one mistake.”
Grant frowned.
“What?”
“You assumed I was still afraid.”
I dropped the pen.
Grant's face changed.
Nathaniel smiled.
Because we had planned this.
The folder contained copies.
The real documents were already in federal custody.
The room suddenly filled with agents.
Grant turned.
Too late.
Madeline was freed.
Grant was arrested.
I stood still.
My father had died because he believed the truth was worth protecting.
I finally understood him.
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Money wasn't the inheritance.
Courage was.
