Chapter 4: The Man Outside My Door
I didn't go home.
I stood inside the elevator at Northbridge Advisory Group, staring at the photograph Grant had sent me, while the numbers above the doors descended one floor at a time.
The man outside my apartment wore a dark coat and a baseball cap pulled low over his face. His right hand was raised toward the electronic lock. In the reflection of the hallway mirror, I could see a second figure standing near the stairwell.
Two men.
Neither belonged in my building.
I called my father's security director, Thomas Reed.
He answered on the second ring.
"Elena, where are you?""
"Northbridge. I need you to look at something.""
I sent him the photograph.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then his voice changed.
"Don't go to your apartment. I'm sending a team to your location.""
"Can you identify them?""
"Not from this image. Do you recognize either man?""
"No.""
"Has Grant threatened you before?""
"Not like this.""
Thomas exhaled.
"Stay inside the building. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.""
The elevator doors opened.
I stepped into the lobby and walked toward the security desk.
"Could you please confirm that nobody has followed me into the building?"" I asked the guard.
He looked up from his monitor.
"Is there a problem, ma'am?""
"Possibly. I'd appreciate it if you checked the cameras.""
He hesitated, then turned toward his screens.
While he reviewed the footage, my phone rang.
Grant.
I answered but said nothing.
"Elena," he began, sounding exhausted rather than angry.
"Where are you?""
"Somewhere you didn't expect me to be.""
"Don't do this.""
"Do what?""
"Turn a difficult situation into a war.""
I almost laughed.
"You sent me a photograph of strangers standing outside my apartment.""
"I sent it because I was worried about you.""
"You expect me to believe you know nothing about those men?""
"I didn't say that.""
The admission landed between us.
I gripped the phone more tightly.
"What are they doing there, Grant?""
He lowered his voice.
"I need you to listen carefully. You have no idea how dangerous this situation has become.""
"Then explain it.""
"I can't explain everything over the phone.""
"You had no trouble explaining your affair to five hundred employees without saying a word.""
"That is not what this is about.""
"You're right. This is about the $2.4 million you tried to move through Northbridge using my forged signature.""
Silence.
For the first time since I had known him, Grant had nothing ready to say.
Then he spoke very slowly.
"You went to Northbridge.""
"I did.""
"Who showed you those documents?""
"That doesn't matter.""
"It matters a great deal.""
"Why? Are you worried someone might have kept a copy?""
He swore under his breath.
I had my answer.
"Elena, listen to me. There are people involved in this arrangement who don't care about our marriage or your father's position. If the transaction becomes public before I can resolve it, they will protect themselves.""
"By threatening me?""
"I never threatened you.""
"You knew someone was going to my apartment.""
"I knew someone might visit.""
"Who?""
He didn't answer.
I closed my eyes briefly.
Eight years ago, Grant had sat beside me on a hospital bench when my mother underwent emergency surgery. He had held my hand through the night, bringing me coffee and promising that whatever happened, we would face it together.
I had believed him.
Now I was listening to the same man evade a question about strangers outside my home.
"Did you send them?"" I asked.
"No.""
"Did you hire them?""
"No.""
"Then tell me who they are.""
"I can't.""
"Or you won't?""
"Elena, you don't understand what you're dealing with.""
"Then help me understand.""
He took a sharp breath.
"Meet me tomorrow morning. Alone. I'll explain everything.""
I glanced at the security guard, who had stopped reviewing the cameras and was now watching me with growing concern.
"No.""
"Please.""
The word surprised me more than a shout would have.
Grant rarely pleaded. He issued instructions and expected the world to obey.
"Please, Elena. If you care about anything we had together, give me one chance to explain.""
"What we had together ended when you shoved me onto the floor.""
"I was angry.""
"You were cruel.""
"I made a mistake.""
"You keep calling everything a mistake when you don't want to call it a choice.""
His breathing grew uneven.
Then he said something that chilled me more than the photograph.
"If you keep digging, you'll discover that your father isn't the only person who has been lying to you.""
Before I could respond, he hung up.
I stared at my phone.
The security guard cleared his throat.
"Ma'am, I checked the footage. A man followed you into the building about six minutes ago, but he left through the service entrance.""
"Can you show me?""
He turned the monitor toward me.
The footage showed a man in a dark coat entering behind another visitor. He looked directly at the security camera before turning away.
I recognized the face immediately.
Adrian Voss.
The managing director of Northbridge.
The man who had just handed me evidence against my husband.
Why had he followed me?
My phone rang again, but this time the caller was my father.
"Thomas is on his way," Dad said.
"I've also arranged for the general counsel to secure your apartment.""
"There's something you need to know. Voss followed me here.""
"Are you certain?""
"I saw him on the security footage.""
"Don't approach him. Thomas will handle it.""
"Dad, Grant says there are people involved who will protect themselves if the transaction becomes public.""
My father went quiet.
"Did he say who?""
"No.""
"Did he mention Meridian?""
I straightened.
"No. Why?""
Another pause.
Then Dad said, "Because Meridian Strategic Holdings was connected to an acquisition proposal that I rejected six months ago. The proposal came through a private intermediary who refused to disclose the beneficial owners.""
"And you never told me?""
"I didn't have evidence connecting it to Grant.""
"Do you now?""
"I have enough to be concerned.""
I looked toward the glass doors.
A black SUV had pulled up outside. Thomas stepped out, followed by two security officers.
"Elena," Dad said, "I need you to trust me on this. Whatever Grant has become, I will not let anyone hurt you.""
I wanted to believe him.
But Grant's warning had opened a door I couldn't close.
Because if my father knew about Meridian, and Grant knew someone might be coming after me, then the situation was bigger than a forged signature.
It was bigger than an affair.
And it might be bigger than Asterion.
Thomas entered the lobby and came straight toward me.
"Are you all right?""
"I'm fine.""
He studied my face.
"That wasn't what I asked.""
I looked at him.
"No. I'm not fine.""
He nodded once, accepting the answer without trying to soften it.
"Then let's get you somewhere safe.""
We drove to a private apartment owned by the family trust, a place I hadn't visited since I was a law student. Thomas checked every room before allowing me inside.
The apartment smelled faintly of cedar and fresh paint. A single lamp illuminated the living room, where my father had left a note beside a glass of water.
You don't have to be strong every minute. Call me when you're ready.
I sat on the sofa and finally allowed my injured arm to ache.
For several minutes, I did nothing.
Then I opened the photograph Grant had sent.
I enlarged it until the man's face blurred into pixels.
Something about the image bothered me.
Not the men.
The reflection in the glass beside them.
A framed picture hung on the hallway wall outside my apartment. In the reflection, I could see the corner of the frame and the edge of a document tucked behind it.
I had placed that document there myself months earlier: a copy of an old letter from my mother.
But in the photograph, the frame was crooked.
Someone had moved it.
I called Thomas.
"Can you send someone to inspect my apartment for missing documents?""
"Already arranged.""
"There's a letter behind the hallway picture. I need to know whether it's still there.""
He promised to check.
Ten minutes later, he called back.
"The apartment has been entered. Nothing obvious is missing, but the letter is gone.""
My mouth went dry.
"What letter?""
"Your mother's letter, Elena.""
I looked at the note my father had left beside the water.
My mother had died twelve years earlier. The letter was one of the few personal things she had written to me during her final months.
It contained no money, no passwords, no corporate information.
At least, that was what I had always believed.
Thomas continued.
"There's something else. The intruders didn't force the lock.""
I sat very still.
"Then how did they get inside?""
"The electronic access log shows that someone used an authorized administrator credential.""
"Whose credential?""
He hesitated.
"Your husband's.""
I stared at the wall.
Grant had been inside my apartment before the gala. He had known the lock's administrator code. He had known where I kept the letter.
And now he had warned me that my father was hiding something.
My phone vibrated.
An email had arrived from an unknown address. The subject line contained only four words.
*Your mother knew everything.*
There was one attachment.
A scanned letter bearing my mother's signature.
I opened it.
May you like
The first sentence made my blood run cold.
Elena, if you're reading this, then someone has finally discovered what happened to the original Whitcomb inheritance.
