Chapter 7 - The Case Mark Built Before He Gave Me the Car
Her name was Melissa.
Ray’s ex-wife.
She wasn’t cruel.
That somehow made it worse.
When Ray called her, she answered immediately.
“Did you sign something for Mark Mercer?”
Silence.
“Melissa.”
“Yes.”
Ray closed his eyes.
“Why?”
“He said Eli was about to inherit millions.”
“That isn’t your business.”
“I know.”
“He said someone needed to make sure the kids were protected.”
“What kids?”
“Ours.”
I understood before Ray did.
Mark had told Melissa that once I became wealthy, Ray might start spending his income on me instead of Danny and Cara.
He pointed to the late child-support payment as proof.
A problem Mark may have known about before it happened.
“Did he pay you?” Ray asked.
“No.”
“Offer?”
Silence.
“Melissa.”
“He said he could create education accounts for Danny and Cara.”
There it was.
Money again.
Mark seemed incapable of imagining a relationship that didn’t eventually become a transaction.
Melissa began crying.
“I was scared.”
Ray’s voice softened.
“You should’ve called me.”
“I know.”
She withdrew the affidavit the next morning.
But the petition remained.
Susan told us not to panic.
“My opinion is that Mark’s case is weak.”
“Opinion?”
She looked at me carefully.
“No lawyer should promise an outcome.”
I liked her more every time she refused to perform certainty.
Then she showed me the most important part.
Mark’s petition claimed I needed experienced financial guidance.
So Susan requested his financial disclosures.
If he wanted control over my assets, his own history mattered.
Mark fought the request.
The judge allowed it.
Three days later, we understood why.
Mark owed almost $2.8 million personally.
Not gambling anymore.
Business guarantees.
Private investments.
Margin debt.
Loans secured against his Mercer shares.
His birthday generosity suddenly looked even more ridiculous.
The company technically paid for my car because Mark could not comfortably buy it himself.
Then Susan found something worse.
One of Mark’s loans contained an unusual clause.
If he obtained control of additional Mercer voting shares, the lender would extend his repayment deadline.
My shares.
His petition wasn’t only about saving the company.
It could save him personally.
The hearing was set for six weeks later.
Mark stopped calling.
Then, one Thursday afternoon, someone else did.
A man named Paul Kendrick.
Mercer Industrial’s chief financial officer.
“I probably shouldn’t be contacting you directly.”
“Then why are you?”
“Because your grandfather told me to if Mark ever tried to gain control of your shares.”
I sat down.
“What did Grandpa know?”
Paul hesitated.
“More than Rebecca knows.”
“About Mark?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
He lowered his voice.
“The Texas factory wasn’t Mark’s idea.”
I frowned.
“Whose was it?”
“Your grandfather’s.”
That changed everything.
May you like
Then Paul added:
“Mark tried to stop it.”
