PART 2 — THE WOMAN WHO BOUGHT THE COMPANY
For several seconds, nobody in the dining room breathed.
The only sound was the faint ticking of the antique clock above the fireplace.
Daniel stared at his father.
Then at me.
Then at my attorney.
His face had gone completely white.
“What did you just say?” Daniel whispered.
Charles didn't answer.
He was still staring at me as if he were looking at a stranger.
“The buyer,” he repeated slowly. “You're the buyer?”
I nodded.
Daniel laughed nervously.
“No. That's impossible.”
My attorney calmly adjusted his glasses.
“Actually, Mr. Mercer, it is quite possible.”
Daniel shook his head.
“My wife doesn't have that kind of money.”
I smiled.
“You've never actually known how much money I have, Daniel.”
His expression changed.
For years, Daniel had assumed I was simply the quiet wife who stayed away from his family's business meetings.
He thought my shares were a gift from my late father.
He thought the trust fund I inherited was insignificant.
Most importantly, he thought I was too emotionally attached to him to ever challenge his family.
That had been his biggest mistake.
Charles finally stepped toward the folder.
“Show me the documents.”
My attorney pushed the folder across the table.
Charles opened it.
His hands began trembling as he read.
“Acquisition agreement…”
He turned another page.
“Controlling interest…”
Another page.
His eyes stopped.
“Seventy-two percent.”
Daniel grabbed the papers from his father's hands.
“No.”
He scanned the pages rapidly.
“No, no, no…”
I sat down again.
“You're welcome to read them twice.”
Daniel looked at me.
“When did this happen?”
“Six weeks ago.”
His mouth opened.
“Six weeks?”
“Yes.”
“You were planning this while you were sleeping beside me?”
I looked at him calmly.
“You were planning to destroy me while sleeping beside me.”
He had no answer.
His mother suddenly stood.
“This is ridiculous. Daniel's father built this company.”
I turned toward Evelyn.
“No. Charles built the company.”
She frowned.
“And you stole it?”
I shook my head.
“I bought the part your family was desperate to sell.”
Charles looked up sharply.
“Don't.”
His voice was quiet.
But for the first time that evening, there was fear in it.
I continued.
“Three months ago, the company was already drowning in debt.”
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
“You knew?”
“I knew before you ever asked me to sign those transfer papers.”
My attorney opened another file.
“Your company had outstanding liabilities exceeding twenty-three million dollars. Several lenders had already issued notices of default.”
Daniel stared at his father.
“Dad?”
Charles remained silent.
I continued.
“And then there was the offshore account.”
Daniel suddenly moved toward me.
“You have no idea what you're talking about.”
I looked at him.
“Seven million dollars transferred from company accounts over eighteen months.”
His face hardened.
“That isn't evidence.”
I slid a bank statement across the table.
“Then perhaps this is.”
He looked down.
His own signature appeared at the bottom.
The room became silent again.
Evelyn picked up the paper.
Her eyes widened.
“Charles…”
He took it from her.
His expression collapsed.
I leaned back in my chair.
“You weren't trying to protect the family.”
I looked at Daniel.
“You were trying to find someone to blame when the company collapsed.”
Daniel swallowed.
“You were going to put the debt in my name.”
He didn't answer.
“You were going to transfer my shares to yourself.”
Nothing.
“And then declare bankruptcy.”
My voice became colder.
“So when the investigators arrived, everything would point to me.”
Daniel finally exploded.
“You don't understand!”
He slammed his hands onto the table.
“You have no idea what I had to do to keep this company alive!”
I stood.
“You stole seven million dollars.”
“I borrowed it!”
“Without authorization.”
“I was going to put it back!”
“When?”
He froze.
I stepped closer.
“When the company collapsed?”
His silence answered for him.
Charles suddenly grabbed his chest.
Evelyn rushed toward him.
“Charles!”
He waved her away.
His eyes never left me.
“You planned this.”
“Yes.”
“You waited until we were vulnerable.”
“No.”
I smiled faintly.
“I waited until you showed me who you really were.”
My attorney opened another document.
“There is one more matter.”
Daniel looked at him.
“What now?”
“The acquisition agreement includes a management clause.”
Charles frowned.
“What clause?”
My attorney turned the document around.
“Effective immediately, the previous executive board has been dissolved.”
Daniel's eyes widened.
“You can't do that.”
“I can,” I said.
“Because I own seventy-two percent.”
He looked at his father.
“Dad, say something!”
Charles slowly sat down.
For the first time in his life, he looked old.
Very old.
“You should have listened to her,” he whispered.
Daniel stared at him.
“What?”
Charles lowered his head.
“She warned us.”
Daniel looked back at me.
“You warned them?”
“Twice.”
“When?”
“Before I bought the shares.”
His face twisted with disbelief.
“You offered to save the company?”
“Yes.”
“And we rejected you.”
“Not exactly.”
I looked toward Charles.
“You rejected my offer because you thought I was desperate.”
Charles closed his eyes.
I continued.
“You believed my shares were the only thing keeping me trapped in this family.”
I picked up my handbag.
“You were wrong.”
Daniel stepped in front of me.
“You're not leaving.”
I stopped.
“Daniel.”
His voice became desperate.
“Please.”
It was the first time that night he had said that word.
Not as a command.
Not as an insult.
As a plea.
“You can't destroy everything.”
I looked at him for a long moment.
“I didn't destroy anything.”
I pointed toward the folder.
“You did.”
Then my attorney's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“Understood.”
He hung up.
I looked at him.
“What happened?”
He glanced at Daniel.
“The auditors have arrived.”
Daniel's face went pale.
“What auditors?”
My attorney calmly replied:
“The ones your father thought were coming next month.”
Charles suddenly stood.
“Wait.”
My attorney turned.
Charles stared at me.
“What exactly did you tell them?”
I smiled.
“Everything.”
Daniel's knees nearly gave way.
And then my phone vibrated.
I looked down at the screen.
One new message.
From an unknown number.
STOP THIS NOW, OR YOUR HUSBAND WON'T BE THE ONLY ONE WHO GOES TO PRISON.
My smile disappeared.
Because whoever sent that message knew something I hadn't told anyone.
And beneath the warning was one final sentence:
ASK CHARLES ABOUT THE NIGHT YOUR FATHER DIED.
