Chapter 11 - THE TRUTH ABOUT LARKIN’S FATHER
Eleanor refused to answer in the warehouse.
“Not here.”
Larkin looked furious.
Not loud.
Larkin was most dangerous when quiet.
Hours later, after attorneys and investigators finished the first interviews, they met inside a private conference room.
Penelope sat beside Eleanor.
It felt strange.
Her mother smelled different.
Looked different.
But she still rubbed her thumb against her index finger when nervous.
Penelope remembered that.
Larkin remained standing.
“Who killed my father?”
Eleanor looked at him.
“Your father arranged his own disappearance.”
Thomas cursed.
Larkin did not move.
“What?”
“He knew Marcus would never stop while he was alive.”
“You’re saying he’s alive?”
“No.”
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
“He survived the first attempt. He died eleven months later from cancer.”
Larkin slowly sat down.
For years, he believed his father had died suddenly from a heart attack after years of brutality and paranoia.
Instead, his father had staged part of the circumstances to remove Marcus’s incentive to attack Larkin immediately.
“He knew he was dying,” Eleanor explained.
“So he accelerated the transfer of power to you.”
Larkin looked sick.
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because you would have tried to save him.”
“Yes.”
“That was exactly why.”
Larkin looked away.
Penelope recognized the expression.
Grief complicated by anger.
She had lived inside it for fifteen years.
Eleanor continued.
“Your father made terrible choices. But near the end, he wanted the organization dismantled piece by piece.”
“And you helped.”
“Yes.”
“So my entire leadership was planned.”
“Not entirely.”
Eleanor looked at Penelope.
“People are not spreadsheets. You can arrange conditions. You cannot guarantee outcomes.”
Penelope almost smiled.
That sounded exactly like her.
Larkin asked:
“Why Penelope?”
Eleanor’s face softened.
“Because she notices inconsistencies.”
Penelope crossed her arms.
“You could have called.”
“I know.”
“You could have written.”
“I know.”
“You watched me struggle.”
Tears filled Eleanor’s eyes.
“I know.”
Penelope’s anger finally surfaced.
“You don’t get to turn surveillance into motherhood.”
The room went quiet.
Eleanor nodded.
“No. I don’t.”
Good answer.
Penelope stood.
“I love you. I think I do. But I don’t know you.”
“I understand.”
“And you don’t get to decide what happens next because you protected me from far away.”
“I understand.”
Penelope started crying.
“I needed you.”
Eleanor broke then.
“So did I.”
They hugged.
Not beautifully.
Not like movies.
Awkwardly.
Angrily.
Desperately.
Fifteen stolen years did not disappear.
But neither did love.
Later, Larkin found Penelope alone in the hallway.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She looked at him.
“That’s an alarming response.”
“You hate dishonest reassurance.”
“True.”
He leaned against the wall.
“My father lied to me.”
“My mother lied to me.”
“Thomas has been lying to everyone recreationally.”
Penelope smiled.
Then Larkin became serious.
“I need to tell you something before someone else does.”
She sighed.
“I’m developing trauma around that sentence.”
“When I hired you, it was because of Eleanor.”
“I know.”
“But when I kept you…”
He stopped.
Penelope’s heartbeat changed.
“Yes?”
“It stopped being about her.”
For once, the man who terrified entire rooms looked uncertain.
Penelope almost enjoyed it.
Before he continued, Thomas appeared around the corner.
“Terrible timing?”
“Yes,” both said.
“Excellent.”
He handed Larkin a tablet.
Marcus’s arrest had triggered searches across several financial entities.
One server contained contracts signed by senior members of the organization.
They had already planned what happened if Larkin fell.
The successor was not Thomas.
Not Marcus.
A third name appeared.
Penelope read it.
Then stared at Eleanor.
May you like
Because the designated successor to one of New York’s most powerful criminal networks was listed as:
PENELOPE WOODS.
