Chapter 7 - Rebecca Walks Through the Door
By 8:00 the next morning, Rebecca had assembled lawyers, cybersecurity specialists and auditors.
By 9:00, Daniel had made a decision.
Mercer’s Table would open.
Rebecca objected.
“Someone threatened the restaurant.”
“Then security stays.”
“What if Samuel does something?”
“He wants us afraid.”
“He might have evidence that the flagship changed ownership.”
“Then Margaret will determine that.”
Rebecca studied her father.
“You're enjoying this.”
“No.”
“You have that construction-site face.”
“What face?”
“The one you had whenever somebody told you a wall couldn't come down.”
Daniel smiled.
“Some walls need removing.”
At 10:30, Brooke arrived.
She stopped outside the entrance.
Daniel met her there.
She looked exhausted.
“Mr. Mercer.”
“Daniel.”
“I owe Luis an apology.”
“Yes.”
“And you.”
“Luis first.”
She nodded.
Daniel opened the door.
“Then you tell me everything.”
Brooke had worked with Peter for four months.
Curtis believed she was loyal because she followed his instructions.
She documented them instead.
“Why didn't Peter come to me?”
“He thought Samuel controlled someone in your office.”
“Who?”
“He didn't know.”
“Where is Peter?”
Brooke's eyes filled.
“I haven't heard from him in eleven days.”
At 11:45, the dining room was full.
Not with wealthy VIPs.
Daniel had instructed staff to accept everyone.
Construction workers sat beside attorneys.
A retired teacher ate soup near two tourists.
Luis and Sofia returned.
At noon exactly, nothing happened.
12:01.
Nothing.
Rebecca exhaled.
Then every phone in the restaurant began buzzing.
A news alert.
Mercer Hospitality Founder Accused of Financial Misconduct.
Daniel read the article.
Anonymous documents alleged he had diverted charitable funds.
The same stolen money.
Samuel had reversed the story.
Rebecca whispered, “He's framing you.”
Customers began looking toward Daniel.
Outside, reporters arrived.
Daniel's phone exploded with calls.
Board members.
Investors.
Lawyers.
Then Samuel called.
Daniel answered.
“You did this.”
Samuel sounded almost sad.
“You did it to yourself.”
“Come say that to me.”
“I don't need to.”
“You're hiding.”
“No, Daniel.”
A pause.
“I'm across the street.”
Daniel looked through the window.
Samuel stood on the opposite sidewalk.
Gray suit.
Umbrella.
Phone against his ear.
“Sell me the flagship,” Samuel said, “and this stops.”
Daniel stared at him.
“No.”
“Then you'll lose everything.”
Daniel ended the call.
Rebecca approached.
“What now?”
Daniel looked around Mercer’s Table.
Thirty-one years of his life.
Hannah's dream.
Rebecca's childhood.
Marcus's loyalty.
Luis eating with his daughter.
“Now we tell the truth.”
But before he could move, Margaret rushed through the entrance holding a document.
“Daniel.”
He turned.
She looked shaken.
“I checked the preservation clause.”
“And?”
“Peter was right.”
Daniel felt the floor disappear beneath him.
Margaret held out the filing.
“Six months ago, ownership of this building legally transferred out of Mercer Hospitality.”
“To the trust?”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who owns it?”
She opened the final page.
Daniel looked down.
The signature at the bottom belonged to Hannah Mercer.
Impossible.
Hannah had been dead thirty-one years.
Yet the document had been notarized six months ago.
Rebecca whispered, “That's Mom's signature.”
Daniel touched the page.
Someone had forged Hannah's name.
Then the front doors opened.
An elderly woman Daniel had not seen in three decades stepped inside.
She looked directly at him.
“Daniel.”
His face went cold.
Because there was only one living person who could reproduce Hannah's signature perfectly.
May you like
Her sister.
And she had just walked into Mercer’s Table...
