Chapter 7 - THE BROTHER THEY ERASEDHis name was Nathan Reid.
Walter remembered him as a quiet teenager who sometimes visited Samuel at Harrison House.
I remembered him too, vaguely.
Older than me.
Serious.
Always carrying books.
“He was Samuel's adopted son?” I asked.
Walter nodded.
“I haven't seen him in twenty years.”
Eleanor sat inside a private drawing room with Grant and Daniel.
She looked exhausted.
“I saw Nathan once after the adoption.”
Grant stared at her.
“When?”
“When he was twenty-one.”
“What happened?”
“He found me.”
“And?”
“I panicked.”
Grant laughed without humor.
“Of course you did.”
“He wanted to know why I gave him away.”
“What did you say?”
“That I had no choice.”
“Was that true?”
“At seventeen? Yes.”
“And later?”
Eleanor began crying.
That answered him.
Grant stood and walked toward the window.
I watched his anger shift.
For years, he had believed every Mercer rule mattered.
Bloodline.
Legacy.
Reputation.
Now he had discovered his family had erased one of their own because he threatened the appearance they valued more than truth.
Daniel asked, “Did Dad know?”
“Yes.”
Grant turned.
“Our father knew?”
“I told him before we married.”
“And he was fine with it?”
“He said the past should stay buried.”
“That sounds like him.”
Eleanor flinched.
Daniel asked, “Did Nathan know Thomas Mercer?”
“I don't know.”
Walter entered.
“We found him.”
My pulse quickened.
“Where?”
“He's upstairs.”
Grant stared.
“Inside the mansion?”
“Yes.”
“Why haven't you detained him?”
Walter looked at me.
“Because he walked into the security office voluntarily.”
Nathan Reid waited inside my grandmother's library.
He was fifty-one now.
Tall.
Gray at the temples.
A scar crossed one eyebrow.
And on his right hand was a blue-stone Mercer signet ring.
Eleanor stopped when she saw him.
“Nathan.”
He looked at her.
No anger.
That was somehow worse.
“Hello, Eleanor.”
Grant stepped forward.
“You're our brother?”
Nathan studied him.
“Half.”
Grant looked at the ring.
“You attacked Charles.”
“No.”
“You stole the certificates.”
“Yes.”
Walter tensed.
Nathan reached inside his jacket slowly.
He removed a sealed envelope.
“They're safe.”
“Where?”
“Not here.”
I stepped forward.
“Why steal them?”
“To prevent Northbridge from acquiring Mercer Atlantic.”
Grant laughed.
“So everybody's suddenly an expert on my company.”
Nathan looked at him.
“I've been an attorney specializing in corporate restructurings for twenty-six years.”
Grant's smile disappeared.
Nathan continued.
“Your Northbridge agreement is catastrophic.”
“You've seen it?”
“I drafted objections to it.”
Daniel stared.
“You're N.R. Legal?”
Nathan nodded.
Daniel almost laughed.
“I've been receiving anonymous legal memos for weeks.”
“You weren't supposed to know who sent them.”
Grant exploded.
“You interfered in my transaction?”
“Yes.”
“You had no right.”
Nathan looked toward me.
“Technically, neither did you.”
Grant stepped closer.
“You think because you're suddenly some lost Mercer child—”
Nathan cut him off.
“I don't want your name.”
Grant stopped.
“I don't want your money. I don't want your company. I don't want Eleanor's apology.”
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
Nathan looked at me.
“I came because Samuel left instructions.”
“My grandmother's lawyer?”
“My father.”
The distinction mattered.
Samuel Reid had been Nathan's father in every way that counted.
“What instructions?”
“If Mercer Atlantic was ever threatened by a sale that violated the original Harrison agreement, I was to protect the certificates.”
“Why not contact me?”
Nathan's expression softened.
“I tried.”
I frowned.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
“I received nothing.”
“I sent letters to your office.”
Grant looked away.
I noticed.
“Grant?”
Nothing.
I stepped toward him.
“What did you do?”
He sighed.
“I intercepted some mail.”
My stomach dropped.
“How?”
“Our home office staff redirected Harrison-related correspondence to me.”
“You ordered that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was trying to understand the trust.”
Nathan stared at him.
“You intercepted three certified legal warnings addressed to your wife.”
Grant said nothing.
My hands began shaking.
The shove had been public.
But this betrayal went deeper.
Grant had been quietly isolating me from information about my own inheritance.
“How long?”
“Claire…”
“How long have you been reading my mail?”
“Months.”
Eleanor whispered, “Grant.”
He snapped, “Stop acting surprised!”
Nathan's jaw tightened.
“You sound exactly like Thomas.”
Grant looked ready to attack him.
Instead, he laughed.
“You don't know anything about me.”
“I know enough.”
Nathan turned toward me.
“I entered the mansion using Samuel’s legacy credential because I believed your communications were compromised.”
“Why take the certificates?”
“Because someone else knew where they were.”
“Who?”
Nathan looked toward Grant.
“Northbridge.”
Grant frowned.
“What?”
“I received a call yesterday offering me five million dollars for the original ownership certificates.”
Nobody spoke.
“Who called?”
“A Northbridge intermediary.”
Grant shook his head.
“They wouldn't do that.”
Nathan almost smiled.
“You're remarkably trusting for a man who lies this much.”
Grant's face reddened.
Nathan continued.
“They knew the certificates could destroy the acquisition. They wanted them before tonight.”
“So you removed them first.”
“Yes.”
“Then who attacked Charles?”
“I don't know.”
Charles had entered for the same reason, apparently.
Two estranged Harrison-connected men had independently come to prevent the sale.
Someone had attacked one.
I asked Nathan, “Where are the certificates?”
“Safe.”
“That isn't good enough.”
He looked at me.
“Fair.”
He took out his phone.
Then stopped.
The screen was cracked.
“No signal.”
Walter frowned.
“Internal network interference again.”
Nathan's expression changed.
“That's bad.”
“Why?”
“The certificates are stored digitally as well.”
“Where?”
“Samuel maintained an encrypted archive.”
Walter understood first.
“If someone is attacking the estate network…”
“They could be attempting to locate the backup.”
The lights flickered.
Then every phone in the room vibrated simultaneously.
A message appeared.
UNKNOWN SENDER.
Grant opened his.
His face changed.
I read mine.
CLAIRE HARRISON:
TRANSFER CONTROL OF HARRISON-MERCER HOLDINGS BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
OR THE ORIGINAL CERTIFICATES, LEDGER COPIES, AND PRIVATE FAMILY RECORDS WILL BE RELEASED PUBLICLY.
Grant stared at me.
“This is blackmail.”
Another message arrived.
This one included an image.
A photograph of the original ownership certificates.
Nathan whispered, “That's impossible.”
“What?”
“The certificates I took are in a bank vault.”
“Then those are copies?”
“No.”
He zoomed in.
His face became white.
“Those are the originals.”
“What did you put in the vault?”
Nathan looked at me.
“Apparently forgeries.”
Somebody had switched them before he arrived.
Someone with access to the safe.
Someone who had planned much further ahead than any of us.
Then Grant’s phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A distorted voice spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“Midnight, Mr. Mercer.”
Grant looked at me.
The voice continued.
“Convince your wife to surrender control.”
Then it laughed softly.
“Or we'll show the world what the Harrison family buried.”
The call ended.
I stared at Nathan.
“What could be worse than everything we've already found?”
He looked toward my grandmother’s letter.
Then toward Walter.
And neither man answered.
That silence frightened me more than the threat.
Because it meant they knew.
May you like
There was one secret left.
And my grandmother had taken it to her grave.
