Chapter 6 - The Prodigal Son’s Gamble
Grant stood outside the front gate, looking nervous and shivering in the autumn chill as he stared up at the security cameras.
“He found us,” I said, freezing as I watched the monitor feed.
“Nobody followed him,” Marcus said, checking the perimeter sensors. “He must have tracked your IP address through an unsecured message you sent earlier.”
“Open the gate,” I said, standing up from the desk. “I want to see what my dear brother has to say for himself.”
Marcus hesitated for a second before pressing the remote switch, the heavy iron gate sliding open with a low mechanical hum. Grant hurried up the gravel path, practically throwing himself against the front door until I unlocked it and pulled it open.
“Evie! Thank God,” Grant gasped, brushing past me into the warm entryway. He looked disheveled, his expensive jacket wrinkled and his hair uncombed. “Dad’s arrested, Mom is having a complete nervous breakdown, and the feds are seizing everything!”
“You look terrible, Grant,” I said, closing the door behind him and crossing my arms. “What are you doing here?”
Grant stopped in the center of the command room, staring in shock at the wall of monitors and the financial ledgers scattered across the steel desk.
“You’re working with Marcus?” Grant stammered, his eyes darting between us. “Grandfather’s fixer? Are you out of your mind? You’re destroying the family!”
“The family destroyed itself years ago, Grant,” I replied coldly. “You just didn't care as long as your allowance cleared every month.”
“Listen to me, Evie,” Grant pleaded, stepping closer with a desperate look in his eyes. “Vance’s men are looking for those files. If you hand them over to the feds, we’re all going down. Dad said if we sign a settlement agreement, Vance will make the criminal charges disappear.”
“A settlement?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of settlement?”
“You hand over the trust funds to Meridian Holdings, and they drop the theft allegations against you,” Grant blurted out, revealing the entire core strategy of my father’s legal team in a single breath.
Marcus stepped out from the shadow of the server racks, his face like stone.
“So Deputy Mayor Vance sent you here to negotiate a shakedown,” Marcus said, his deep voice cutting through the room like a knife.
Grant flinched, finally noticing the heavy manila folders resting on the desk.
“You’re recording this, aren’t you?” Grant whispered, color draining rapidly from his face.
“Every single word,” I said, holding up my phone, which displayed an active audio recording screen. “Thanks for confirming that Dad and Vance are coordinating the extortion attempt from jail.”
Grant’s panic instantly curdled into blind, vicious rage.
“You little bitch!” Grant yelled, lunging forward toward the desk to grab the flash drive.
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Before he could take two steps, Marcus stepped into his path, grabbed Grant by the collar of his jacket, and hoisted him off the floor with effortless strength before slamming him gently against the reinforced wall.
“Don’t ever test your luck in this house, boy,” Marcus warned, his voice dangerously low.
