Chapter 10 - Arthur’s Last Advantage
Arthur was not stupid.
That was why he had gotten so far.
When the board suspended him, he activated a poison pill buried inside Aurelian Partners.
If Vance Crest challenged ownership, certain project loans accelerated.
Redwood Square could collapse anyway.
He wanted everyone desperate enough to negotiate.
Then he offered terms.
Drop civil claims.
Let him retain twenty percent of Aurelian.
No criminal cooperation from the company.
In exchange, he would waive acceleration rights.
Dad wanted to accept immediately.
Of course.
Sienna did too at first.
“It saves the company.”
I looked at her.
“Temporarily.”
“Employees could lose everything.”
“Yes.”
“So what do we do?”
“Find out whether his leverage is real.”
Forensic people survive because we distrust documents written by people who profit from our panic.
I traced the loan structure.
Arthur’s acceleration clause required lender consent.
The lender?
A private fund called Hightower Capital.
Managing partner:
Brooke’s uncle.
I stared at the name.
Called her.
She laughed when I explained.
“My uncle hated Arthur.”
“Why did he lend?”
“He didn’t know Arthur controlled Aurelian.”
We contacted Hightower.
They reviewed the fraud evidence.
Then issued a letter.
They would not accelerate if Vance Crest pursued legal restructuring.
Arthur’s biggest weapon disappeared in one afternoon.
He called me.
“You went to Hightower.”
“Yes.”
“You had no right.”
“I didn’t need one to send them public records.”
He breathed hard.
“You think you’ve won.”
“No.”
“I think you’re losing options.”
Then he whispered:
“You still don’t know what your father did to get me into the family.”
“What?”
“Ask him about your accident.”
My blood went cold.
“What accident?”
He laughed once.
“The hospital.”
The surgery.
The forged signature date.
My emergency surgery had followed a car crash.
Two years earlier.
I had always believed another driver ran a red light.
Arthur had been the first person at the hospital.
Dad came next.
Sienna.
Mom.
I remembered little.
Then Arthur said:
“Who do you think paid the driver?”
And disconnected.
May you like
That was the first time revenge stopped feeling satisfying.
Because the next trail might not end in money.
