Chapter 5: The Third Person
Marcus barely slept.
At 3:17 a.m., he sat alone in his father's study, holding a photograph of Richard Williams.
The room smelled of leather, old paper, and the cedarwood polish his father had always used on the desk.
Nothing had changed.
The books remained arranged by subject. A brass clock ticked beside the window. His father's reading glasses rested on an open financial newspaper.
Marcus had avoided this room for six years.
Now he wished he'd entered it sooner.
Olivia stood in the doorway.
"Are you okay?""
He didn't look up.
"Do you remember the last time Dad sat here?""
She nodded.
"He was angry because you forgot to call him after your business trip.""
Marcus smiled faintly.
"I remember.""
"He kept saying you were working too hard.""
Marcus ran a finger over the photograph.
"I thought he was worried about the company.""
"He was worried about you.""
Olivia entered and sat opposite him.
For a moment, they were children again.
Then Marcus looked at her.
"Why didn't you tell me about Vanessa?""
Olivia's eyes filled.
"I thought I could fix it.""
"You could have told me.""
"I was ashamed.""
"Six years?""
She nodded.
He looked toward the window.
"Did you ever think about what Dad would say?""
Olivia whispered, "Every day.""
Marcus pushed the photograph aside.
"Then help me understand something. The detective said Dad named three people.""
Olivia stiffened.
"Who was the third?""
"I don't know.""
"Did he say?""
"No.""
She looked relieved.
Too relieved.
Marcus noticed.
"Olivia?""
She looked at him.
"Yes?""
"Is there someone else?""
She hesitated.
Then she reached into her coat pocket.
"I found this with the other documents.""
She placed a folded sheet of paper on the desk.
Marcus opened it.
It was a handwritten note.
His father's writing.
Marcus, if you ever discover that someone has altered my will, remember this: the person who helped me build my company knows where every weakness is hidden.
At the bottom was a name.
*Thomas Williams.*
Marcus froze.
His uncle.
Richard's younger brother.
The man who had served as vice president of Williams Holdings for twenty-seven years.
The man who had stood beside Marcus at his father's funeral and promised to help him run the company.
The man who had taught him how to negotiate his first major contract.
Marcus looked up.
"Uncle Thomas?""
Olivia nodded.
"I think so.""
Marcus shook his head.
"No. He would never do this.""
"Marcus...""
"No.""
He stood so abruptly that the chair scraped backward.
"Thomas helped me keep the company alive after Dad died. He took over operations while I was dealing with the estate. He protected us.""
Olivia looked at him sadly.
"Maybe that's what he wanted you to believe.""
Marcus paced toward the window.
He remembered the countless conversations with his uncle.
The advice.
The warnings.
The way Thomas had encouraged him to stay focused on business while the lawyers handled the inheritance.
Had it all been an act?
His phone rang.
Daniel.
Marcus answered.
"Tell me you have something good.""
Daniel sounded exhausted.
"I have something important.""
"What?""
"I reviewed the original company records. There were several transfers from the estate to a holding company called Northbridge Capital.""
Marcus frowned.
"Who owns it?""
"Officially, a corporation registered in Delaware.""
"And unofficially?""
Daniel paused.
"Thomas Williams.""
Marcus closed his eyes.
There it was.
The third person.
"How much?""
"Approximately $1.4 million.""
Marcus gripped the phone.
"One point four million?""
"Yes.""
"When?""
"Over three years.""
Marcus looked at Olivia.
She had heard enough to understand.
"Does Uncle Thomas know we found it?"" Marcus asked.
"I don't believe so.""
"Don't contact him.""
Daniel hesitated.
"Marcus, we need to move quickly.""
"I said don't contact him.""
"Understood.""
Marcus ended the call.
Olivia stood.
"What are you going to do?""
He looked at his sister.
"I'm going to ask my uncle a question.""
Thomas Williams lived in a large brick house outside Greenwich.
Marcus arrived shortly after eight in the morning.
The driveway was lined with neatly trimmed hedges. A gardener was working beside the front entrance.
Everything looked exactly as it had during Marcus's childhood visits.
The same white columns.
The same oak front door.
The same expensive black SUV parked beside the garage.
Thomas opened the door himself.
"Marcus!""
He smiled warmly.
"Son, what a surprise.""
Marcus didn't return the smile.
"We need to talk.""
Thomas studied his face.
Then he stepped aside.
"Of course. Come in.""
The living room was bright and immaculate. A fire burned in the marble fireplace despite the mild weather.
Thomas poured two cups of coffee.
"How's Vanessa?""
Marcus looked at him.
"Why?""
Thomas raised an eyebrow.
"Because she's your wife.""
"Not for much longer.""
Thomas placed the coffee pot down.
"What happened?""
Marcus stared at him.
"Did you know about the inheritance transfers?""
Thomas's expression barely changed.
"What transfers?""
"The ones made from Dad's estate.""
Thomas took a sip of coffee.
"Marcus, that estate was settled years ago.""
"Apparently not.""
Thomas set down his cup.
"What's going on?""
Marcus removed a printed bank statement from his jacket.
"Northbridge Capital.""
Thomas looked at the page.
For the first time, his smile disappeared.
"Where did you get this?""
"Does it matter?""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
Thomas placed the statement on the table.
"Because this is confidential company information.""
Marcus laughed.
"Confidential? My father's money was transferred into your company.""
Thomas leaned back.
"That's a serious accusation.""
"Then deny it.""
"I don't need to deny anything.""
Marcus stared at him.
"One point four million dollars.""
Thomas adjusted his cufflinks.
"Those were legitimate business transactions.""
"From Dad's inheritance?""
"Your father owed me money.""
Marcus felt his stomach tighten.
"Owed you what?""
Thomas stood.
"Sit down, Marcus.""
"No.""
"Your father and I had an agreement.""
"What agreement?""
Thomas walked toward the fireplace.
"Your father promised me a share of the company. When he died, that arrangement was ignored.""
Marcus stared at him.
"You wanted more money?""
"I wanted what I was owed.""
"So you stole it?""
Thomas turned sharply.
"Watch your language.""
Marcus took another step.
"Did you help Vanessa forge my signature?""
Thomas's expression hardened.
"I had nothing to do with your marriage.""
"Did you know about Claire Bennett?""
Thomas looked away.
It lasted less than a second.
But Marcus saw it.
"Uncle Thomas.""
Thomas exhaled.
"Your father made a terrible mistake.""
"What mistake?""
"Trusting you with everything.""
Marcus felt a cold wave move through him.
Thomas continued.
"You were young. Ambitious. Reckless. Richard knew you could destroy the company if you weren't careful.""
"My father trusted me.""
"Your father loved you. That isn't the same thing.""
Marcus shook his head.
"Did you arrange the marriage?""
Thomas didn't answer.
Marcus laughed quietly.
"That's a yes.""
Thomas moved toward the bar.
"You're making a mistake coming here without legal representation.""
"I came because I wanted to hear the truth from someone I trusted.""
Thomas poured himself another drink.
"Then perhaps you should have asked better questions years ago.""
Marcus stared at him.
"What happened to the original will?""
Thomas stopped pouring.
The silence was immediate.
Marcus stepped closer.
"Where is it?""
Thomas put the bottle down.
"I have no idea what you're talking about.""
"Olivia found a key.""
Thomas's face changed.
"A key?""
"To Dad's safe.""
For the first time, Thomas looked genuinely alarmed.
He quickly recovered.
"That safe contains nothing important.""
Marcus studied him.
"How would you know?""
Thomas didn't answer.
Marcus took out his phone.
"I have copies of the transfer records. I have the forged documents. I have emails between Vanessa and Robert. And I have the marriage certificate.""
Thomas looked at him.
"You think that proves anything?""
"It proves enough to start an investigation.""
Thomas approached him.
"Marcus, listen carefully. You don't understand the people you're dealing with.""
"Then explain.""
"Robert wasn't working alone.""
Marcus felt his pulse quicken.
"I know.""
Thomas nodded slowly.
"Good. Then you understand that this goes beyond Vanessa.""
Marcus stared at him.
"Who else?""
Thomas looked toward the staircase.
"Your father made enemies. Powerful ones. People who wanted the company.""
"Who?""
Before Thomas could answer, a woman's voice came from behind them.
"Thomas, stop.""
Both men turned.
A woman stood at the top of the staircase.
She was in her early sixties, wearing a cream cardigan and holding a glass of water.
Marcus recognized her immediately.
His aunt.
Patricia Williams.
She had been married to Thomas for thirty years.
Marcus frowned.
"Aunt Patricia?""
She descended slowly.
"I was hoping you wouldn't find out this way.""
Thomas snapped.
"Patricia, go upstairs.""
She ignored him.
Instead, she approached Marcus and placed a small envelope in his hand.
"Your father asked me to keep this safe.""
Marcus looked at the envelope.
"What's inside?""
Patricia's eyes filled.
"The truth about your mother's death.""
Marcus stopped breathing.
His mother had died when he was sixteen.
A car accident.
At least, that was what he'd been told.
"What does my mother have to do with this?""
Patricia looked at Thomas.
Then back at Marcus.
"Everything.""
Thomas lunged toward her.
"Give me that!""
Patricia stepped behind Marcus.
"Your father discovered something shortly before she died.""
Marcus opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of his mother standing beside a man.
The man wasn't his father.
Marcus stared at the image.
May you like
On the back, in his father's handwriting, were five words:
The accident was not accidental.
