Chapter 17 - DANIEL UNDER ARREST
Police arrested Daniel before sunrise.
Not charged.
Held for questioning.
His security contractor had entered Ambrose’s detention transport area using forged credentials.
The contractor claimed Daniel ordered him to retrieve a flash drive.
Daniel denied it.
Then investigators found messages from his number.
I went to the station.
He looked exhausted.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“Probably.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“I know.”
He stared.
“You do?”
“No.”
That hurt him.
Good.
I was tired of certainty.
His phone had been cloned.
Forensics proved it six hours later.
The contractor had worked for Nathan.
Daniel’s brother.
Nathan was already in federal custody.
Which meant someone inside had reached him.
Nathan confessed.
Victor’s attorney had offered money to frame Daniel and destroy Ambrose’s credibility.
The conspiracy was eating itself.
Daniel was released.
Outside, rain had started.
Of course.
He looked at me.
“I owe you the truth.”
“Yes.”
“All of it.”
“Yes.”
He told me his father had not merely accepted bribes.
He had helped Ambrose build the early network.
Dad exposed him.
Daniel spent years hating Dad because hatred was easier than admitting his father deserved prison.
Then Dad contacted Daniel before dying.
Asked him to protect the patents if Emily ever surfaced.
Daniel refused.
At first.
After Dad died, guilt stayed.
That was why he bought the debt.
Not only business.
Not only me.
A promise he had once rejected.
I asked.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Shame.”
That answer sounded human.
Small.
Ugly.
Believable.
I nodded.
“I’m still angry.”
“I know.”
“I still don’t trust you completely.”
“I know.”
“I may never.”
He looked at me.
“I know.”
I hated how much I wanted to hug him.
So I did.
For maybe three seconds.
Then stepped back.
“Don’t make this romantic.”
He almost smiled.
“Terrifying thought.”
We drove to Wisconsin.
My mother had searched old belongings.
She found a sealed envelope inside a cookbook she had carried since before the crash.
Inside was the final patent assignment.
Dad had signed half.
My mother had signed half.
Ownership was not Carter-Lane’s alone.
Half belonged to a trust for me.
Personally.
May you like
The patents Victoria and Ambrose had destroyed lives to control had legally been mine since childhood.
