Chapter 9 - THE EIGHT MILLION DOLLAR SECRET
Dominic spent the next forty-eight hours reviewing the beginning of his own company.
He had always told journalists the same story.
A brilliant idea.
A borrowed office.
Three engineers.
An ambitious young founder working eighteen-hour days.
Most of it was true.
But not all.
His father had quietly arranged early financing through a private investment vehicle.
Dominic knew about the investment.
He did not know where all its capital originated.
Now he did.
Or at least he understood why investigators needed to examine it.
The eight-million-dollar transfer had passed through several companies tied to Lionel Mercer.
Some had participated in antiquities transactions with unreliable documentation.
That did not automatically make every dollar criminal.
But it destroyed Dominic’s assumption that he knew the origins of his business.
His attorneys recommended silence.
His public-relations director recommended patience.
The board recommended that he distance himself from Aurelian.
Dominic called Henrik.
Then Skylar.
“I’m turning over the records.”
Skylar stared at him during the video call.
“All of them?”
“The complete early-financing files.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to know what I actually built.”
She studied his face.
For the first time, he did not look like a man performing humility for an investor.
He looked frightened.
That made him easier to understand.
Not easier to forgive.
But easier to understand.
Meanwhile, Elias Hastings had another memory.
He remembered Lionel attending one of his meetings with Victor.
Not as the seller.
As the person directing the review.
“Lionel told me the ownership history was confidential,” Elias explained.
Skylar sat beside his wheelchair.
“He said several collectors had legitimate privacy concerns.”
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
“What changed?”
“One tablet.”
The same tablet Skylar recognized at Lauronie.
Elias had seen the older institutional photograph.
The damage matched.
The inscription matched.
And the acquisition documents could not explain how the object had left the earlier collection.
He demanded further evidence.
Victor refused.
Lionel became angry.
Then Elias made the decision that changed their lives.
He contacted an independent cultural-property attorney and began preparing a formal report.
Four days later, the truck struck his car.
Skylar swallowed.
“Did you tell Victor about the attorney?”
“No.”
“Lionel?”
“No.”
“Then how did they know?”
Elias looked uncomfortable.
“Only one other person had the draft.”
“Who?”
“My doctoral research assistant.”
Skylar froze.
“Who was assisting you?”
Her father looked away.
“Charles Whitmore.”
Skylar stopped breathing.
Professor Charles Whitmore had been her doctoral supervisor at Penn.
The person who encouraged her to leave the program when her father’s medical bills became overwhelming.
The professor who told her there was no shame in choosing family over scholarship.
The man who had promised to preserve her research until she could return.
Skylar stood.
“He knew?”
Elias nodded.
“He reviewed the report.”
She stared.
“And he never told me?”
Elias’s expression tightened.
“I thought he was protecting you.”
Skylar reached for her phone.
Then stopped.
She remembered something.
Two weeks earlier, Charles Whitmore had emailed her.
For the first time in almost three years.
He said he had heard she was working at Lauronie.
He wanted to meet.
At the time, Skylar thought her former professor missed her.
Now she understood.
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Charles had not contacted her because he wanted her back in academia.
He had contacted her because he knew she was getting close to the truth.
