Chapter 4 - The Person Inside My Company
Daniel moved before anyone else.
He pushed me behind him.
Grant turned toward the darkness.
Charles froze.
"Evelyn."
The voice came again.
Closer.
"Don't shoot."
A small emergency light clicked on.
My brother stepped out from behind a storage partition.
"Adrian?"
He looked terrible.
Unshaven.
White shirt wrinkled.
Blood dried along one sleeve.
But alive.
I crossed the distance between us before I could think.
Then stopped.
Eight months of anger stood between us.
So did a much more immediate question.
"What are you doing here?"
"Saving your life."
"Interesting way to say hello."
His eyes dropped to my injured shoulder.
"What happened?"
"Veronica Hale threw me overboard."
Adrian looked at Charles.
Charles lifted both hands.
"My daughter."
"Wonderful family."
"Adrian," I snapped.
He looked back at me.
For one second, he was my younger brother again.
Then fear returned to his face.
"We don't have much time."
"You sent the message?"
"Yes."
"Who has Mom?"
"I don't know."
"Then why did you say—"
"Because whoever hacked my authorization sent me a photograph."
He pulled a folded printout from inside his jacket.
My mother sat beside a window.
Alive.
A newspaper rested on the table.
Today's date.
Beside it was a note.
SIGN BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
My hands started shaking.
Daniel took the photograph.
"Where did this come from?"
"Encrypted relay."
"When?"
"Two hours ago."
"Why didn't you call Evelyn?"
"I tried."
"My phone worked two hours ago."
"Your executive office blocked my number from internal routing."
I stared.
"That's impossible."
"No. It's administrative."
"Who has that authority?"
We both knew.
My chief operating officer.
Marcus Wynn.
Forty-seven.
Gray at the temples.
Tall.
Burgundy pocket square.
The man Lydia had seen with Nathan.
I felt physically sick.
Marcus had worked beside my father.
He had attended his funeral.
He had been in my home.
He sent my mother flowers every birthday.
"No."
Adrian's expression was hard.
"You still do that."
"Do what?"
"Decide someone is innocent because betrayal would be inconvenient."
"Don't."
"You did it eight months ago."
Our old argument returned instantly.
Adrian had accused Marcus of manipulating vendor acquisitions.
I dismissed the evidence as incomplete.
Adrian resigned.
At the time, I believed he was angry because I wouldn't promote him.
Now shame burned through me.
"You were right."
He didn't look satisfied.
That made it worse.
"I wanted to be wrong."
Daniel interrupted.
"Family therapy later. What happens at midnight?"
Adrian nodded.
"A special board authorization."
"I didn't schedule one."
"Marcus did."
"He can't."
"He used my successor credentials."
"To authorize what?"
"Transfer of emergency voting control."
"On what grounds?"
"Your presumed incapacitation."
I stared.
"Presumed?"
Adrian looked toward my shoulder.
"Maybe Veronica wasn't part of their plan. But once you went overboard, they used it."
Everything clicked.
Nathan hurried to destroy evidence.
Marcus knew I had been attacked.
Someone planned to circulate proof that I was missing or dead.
Then Adrian's stolen authorization would transfer control.
"How?" I asked. "I'm standing here."
"Not publicly."
Daniel understood.
"They'll announce she fell into the ocean."
Adrian nodded.
"Exactly."
Charles spoke quietly.
"Half the gala watched her survive."
"Are they online?" Adrian asked.
"No signal," Grant replied.
"Jamming."
Adrian looked at me.
"Outside this yacht, what does anyone know?"
I thought about it.
Nothing.
The attack happened minutes ago.
The yacht's network was disabled almost immediately.
Our helicopter communications were isolated.
The world could still believe anything.
"Marcus needs me presumed dead," I said.
"Or unable to act."
Daniel checked the time.
11:49.
Eleven minutes.
"How do we stop the board action?"
"Get Evelyn onto an authenticated Cross Meridian channel."
"No signal."
"Bridge satellite system?"
Grant shook his head.
"Disabled."
Adrian held up a device.
"I have one secure transmitter."
Relief hit me.
"Then use it."
"It was damaged."
Of course.
Daniel examined it.
"Can it be repaired?"
"Maybe."
"How long?"
"Ten minutes."
We stared at the clock.
Adrian opened the casing.
Daniel helped.
I stood beside them feeling useless.
Then Charles spoke.
"My yacht has an emergency EPIRB satellite transmitter."
Grant looked at him.
"That's distress only."
"Can it carry data?"
"Not enough."
"What about voice?"
"No."
I thought.
"Does the helicopter have direct satellite?"
"Yes," Daniel said.
"Then get me aboard."
He frowned.
"Rotor wash and deck configuration—"
"I don't care."
"I do."
"Daniel."
He looked at me.
Then sighed.
"We use the forward helipad."
Grant unlocked the marina door manually.
We moved upstairs.
Veronica remained under guard.
When she saw Adrian, confusion crossed her face.
Then she looked at me.
"Evelyn."
I kept walking.
She called again.
"Wait."
I stopped.
She stood.
The officer beside her moved.
"I need to tell you something."
"Make it quick."
"Nathan said something to me."
"When?"
"Before tonight."
That got my attention.
"What?"
"Three days ago."
"Why were you talking to him?"
"My father asked me to help with donor invitations. Nathan saw your initials on the private guest list."
My pulse shifted.
"He knew E. Cross was me?"
"I think so."
"What did he say?"
"He asked whether you were coming alone."
Charles stared at his daughter.
"You didn't tell me this."
"I didn't think it mattered."
"What else?"
Veronica swallowed.
"He said you had a habit of making people underestimate you."
Adrian stepped closer.
"What exactly did he ask you to do?"
"Nothing."
I watched her face.
"Veronica."
She started crying.
Not dramatically.
Not strategically.
Actual fear.
"He joked that women like you always need someone to remind them where they belong."
My stomach turned.
"So he planted the idea."
"I already..." She looked ashamed. "I already thought you weren't supposed to be there."
"And he encouraged you."
"Yes."
Daniel's jaw hardened.
"Did he tell you to push her?"
"No."
"Did he tell you to confront her?"
"No."
I believed her again.
Nathan hadn't ordered my attack.
He had studied Veronica.
Fed her arrogance.
Maybe hoped she'd cause a scene.
He couldn't have predicted she'd nearly kill me.
But once she did, Marcus and Nathan adapted.
They were opportunists.
Dangerous ones.
"Why tell me now?" I asked.
Veronica looked at the floor.
"Because if I hadn't been such a horrible person, they couldn't have used me."
That wasn't redemption.
Not yet.
But it was the first honest sentence she had spoken.
"We need the helipad," Daniel said.
I started walking.
Veronica called after me.
"I'm sorry."
I didn't turn around.
Not because I would never forgive her.
Because forgiveness five minutes after attempted murder isn't virtue.
It's denial.
We reached the forward deck.
My helicopter began maneuvering toward us.
Then every light on the yacht died.
Complete darkness.
The helicopter searchlight swept over the deck.
Grant shouted.
"Down!"
A sharp crack broke through the rotor noise.
Glass shattered behind us.
Daniel dragged me behind a structural column.
"Gunshot."
Another crack.
Someone aboard the yacht was shooting.
Adrian crouched beside us.
"Marcus has someone else here."
The helicopter pulled away.
Grant shouted into his radio.
No response.
Then a scream came from inside.
Veronica.
Charles stood.
"My daughter."
I grabbed his arm.
"Don't."
"She's inside!"
Another gunshot.
Then silence.
The ballroom emergency lights flickered back on.
A figure appeared behind the glass doors.
He held Veronica by the arm.
A pistol pressed against her side.
Tall.
Gray hair.
Burgundy pocket square.
Marcus Wynn.
My chief operating officer looked directly at me through the glass.
Then he smiled.
He lifted a phone.
Mine rang.
I answered.
His voice was perfectly calm.
"Evelyn, you've made this unnecessarily complicated."
"Let her go."
"At midnight."
"What happens at midnight?"
"You finally give me what your father should have given me twenty years ago."
I looked at Adrian.
Marcus continued.
"And if you're wondering whether your mother is still alive..."
A video appeared on my phone.
My mother looked into the camera.
Someone stood behind her.
She whispered one word.
May you like
A name.
And it wasn't Marcus.
