Chapter 8 - THE MAN LAWSON TRUSTED WITH HIS CHILDREN
Lawson refused to believe it.
Prescott had been with him fourteen years.
He had saved Lawson’s life twice.
He had carried Jonah downstairs during his first seizure.
Blythe called him Uncle Pres.
Then the medication access logs appeared.
Prescott’s credentials had been used six times.
Always shortly before the twins’ blood counts crashed.
Prescott stared at the screen.
“I didn’t do this.”
Lawson’s voice was cold.
“Your code.”
“Copied.”
“Your fingerprint?”
Prescott went quiet.
The system required fingerprint access.
Elena watched him.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Prescott looked at Lawson.
“My right thumbprint was stored in the old Mercer security database.”
“Why?”
“Your father required biometric records from senior staff.”
Conrad again.
Lawson slammed his fist against the table.
Even dead, his father seemed to have left traps everywhere.
Theo Brennan, Lawson’s cybersecurity contractor, examined the access system.
Prescott’s biometric profile had been duplicated.
The breach came from a legacy server.
Who accessed that server?
Dr. Yates.
Lawson almost felt relieved.
Until Theo continued.
“Yates didn’t act alone.”
There had been remote authorization from inside Mercer Holdings.
Someone currently employed.
Someone with executive clearance.
Lawson ordered a full audit.
The result arrived at midnight.
The credentials belonged to Victor Mercer.
Lawson’s older half-brother.
The family member no one had mentioned because Lawson had not spoken to him in nine years.
Victor had been Conrad’s favorite.
Lawson had been Conrad’s successor.
That difference destroyed them.
After Conrad died, Victor received money.
Lawson received control.
Victor never forgave him.
“What does he gain if the twins die?” Elena asked.
Lawson already knew.
“Succession.”
His will transferred controlling shares to Jonah and Blythe through trust.
If both children died, a family holding clause activated.
Victor became the largest remaining Mercer beneficiary.
Elena stared at him.
“Your father built this?”
“Yes.”
“Your family is insane.”
“Yes.”
For once they agreed.
Prescott traced Victor’s recent travel.
He had returned to Chicago two months earlier.
Quietly.
A rented apartment downtown.
Meetings with Yates.
Payments through offshore accounts.
Lawson felt fury sharpen into something usable.
But Amelia stopped him.
“Your children need you here.”
Every violent instinct Lawson possessed wanted Victor dragged into the room.
Instead, he sat beside Jonah.
That was harder.
And more important.
Amelia prepared for transplant.
Because she was a match for both twins, she could donate stem cells after rapid medical clearance.
For the first time, the countdown changed.
Five days.
Maybe enough.
Then Prescott entered carrying a sealed envelope removed from Yates’s safe.
Inside was a letter written by Genevieve.
Lawson recognized her handwriting immediately.
It began:
LAWSON, IF VICTOR HAS FOUND THE TWINS, THEN MY DEATH WAS NOT THE FIRST THING HE TOOK FROM US.
Lawson stopped breathing.
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At the bottom, Genevieve had written:
ASK PRESCOTT WHAT REALLY HAPPENED THE NIGHT I DIED.
