Chapter 9 - WHY THEY NEEDED MY DAUGHTER
Lily carried the marker.
The result arrived at 9:06 that morning.
Positive.
It should have meant nothing more than inherited biology.
Instead, it made my seven-year-old daughter the future controller of patents worth almost two billion dollars.
My father had created the trust after discovering Charles’s fraud.
He wanted the Blackwell research portfolio permanently protected from outsiders.
The controlling rights passed to me.
Then to a direct descendant carrying a specific Blackwell family marker.
Lily qualified.
Charles knew.
So did Thomas Kline.
Grant paced the hospital conference room.
“They were going to use custody.”
“Yes,” Julian said.
“If Eleanor was declared unstable and I got Lily—”
“Charles believed Madison could influence you.”
Grant stopped.
The disgust on his face was real.
He had been manipulated.
He had also made himself easy to manipulate.
Both things could be true.
Then Julian found something stranger.
“Lily’s blood sample wasn’t taken at tonight’s gala.”
I looked over.
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
I remembered.
Routine pediatric blood work.
Iron levels.
Nothing unusual.
The pediatric practice belonged to Blackwell Health Partners.
Thomas Kline sat on its advisory board.
My daughter had been tested without my knowledge.
Grant’s hands clenched.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
I surprised myself with how calm I sounded.
“You’re going to testify.”
His face changed.
“That will hurt him more.”
Grant sat down.
For the first time since the gala, he smiled faintly.
Then Julian’s phone rang.
Thomas Kline had disappeared.
His home was empty.
Passport missing.
But federal agents found one scheduled corporate transfer awaiting authorization.
He was attempting to sell Blackwell trial data to a foreign pharmaceutical competitor for $180 million.
The deal would happen in twelve hours.
If completed, confidential patient data and patent information would leave the country.
Worse, the transaction used credentials belonging to me.
Again.
My digital signature.
Again.
Grant stared at the authorization.
“Someone inside Blackwell is still helping them.”
Charles was arrested.
Madison was in custody.
Vivian was hospitalized.
Kline was fleeing.
There was another person.
I thought of the six months during which documents appeared after meetings that never happened.
Someone had access to my calendar.
My signatures.
My board credentials.
Someone close.
Very close.
Julian looked at me.
“Who approves your digital certificate renewals?”
I knew the answer.
My executive assistant.
Rachel Monroe.
May you like
The woman who had worked beside me for eleven years.
The woman currently sitting upstairs with Lily.
