Chapter 10 - THE WOMAN WHO CAME TO MY OFFICE
Six months later, a woman arrived at my office.
She was in her forties.
Nervous.
She carried a folder.
“Are you Emily Carter?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Laura.”
She sat down.
“I worked for Richard.”
I became cautious.
“What do you want?”
“To apologize.”
“For what?”
She opened the folder.
Inside were original financial records.
“Richard kept these hidden.”
“What are they?”
“The money trail.”
She pointed at one transaction.
“Your grandmother didn't control everything.”
I frowned.
“Who did?”
“Your biological father's business partner.”
I froze.
“Who?”
Laura whispered:
“Victor Morgan.”
The name meant nothing.
She explained that Victor had been the person who originally convinced Thomas Carter to create the private trust.
But after Thomas died, Victor tried to take control.
Richard joined him.
My grandmother became involved later.
The network had been larger than anyone knew.
Victor had died years ago.
But his son had inherited the operation.
“Who is his son?”
Laura looked at me.
“Michael Morgan.”
I knew that name.
He was one of Carter Technologies' largest investors.
I had met him twice.
He had always been polite.
Professional.
Helpful.
Too helpful.
I immediately called Rachel.
She investigated.
Within hours, she discovered Michael had purchased millions of dollars of Carter Technologies stock during the recent recovery.
He was positioning himself to become the largest minority shareholder.
Then another discovery.
Michael had secretly purchased properties surrounding our headquarters.
He wasn't trying to destroy the company.
He wanted to control it.
Rachel looked at me.
“We have a new problem.”
I nodded.
“Then we solve it.”
The next board meeting was tense.
Michael entered confidently.
“You're doing a wonderful job, Emily.”
I smiled.
“Thank you.”
“But the company needs experienced leadership.”
“I agree.”
“Perhaps a strategic partnership.”
“No.”
He blinked.
“No?”
“You don't want a partnership.”
He smiled.
“What do I want?”
“Control.”
Silence.
Michael leaned back.
“You've been investigating me.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I know who your father was.”
His smile disappeared.
I placed the documents on the table.
“I know about the trust.”
His expression hardened.
“You have no idea what you're talking about.”
“I know enough.”
He stood.
“You think your money makes you untouchable.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“I think the truth does.”
The board members looked toward him.
I handed each director a copy of the evidence.
Michael's plan collapsed in minutes.
The board voted to reject his proposal.
Then regulators opened an investigation.
Michael left the building without another word.
My father waited outside.
“Another one?”
I nodded.
He smiled.
“You really attract trouble.”
I laughed.
“Apparently.”
Then I looked at the building.
The company was finally safe.
But more importantly, it belonged to me.
Not my husband.
Not my grandmother.
Not Richard.
May you like
Not Michael.
Me.
