Chapter 8 - The Brothers Had Been Blackmailing Each Other
The Prescott family did not operate like a family.
They operated like mutually armed countries pretending to share Thanksgiving.
Brandon had kept recordings of Ethan.
Ethan kept financial emails involving Brandon.
Margaret kept copies of everyone’s documents.
And each apparently believed the others might someday need to be controlled.
That culture explained Emily’s marriage better than anything else.
She had entered a family where evidence was currency.
Where secrets were leverage.
Where love meant knowing enough to destroy the person sitting beside you.
The private server could not simply be “hacked” or seized because we wanted answers.
Cassandra followed formal legal channels.
Preservation requests.
Subpoenas.
Court orders where appropriate.
Slow.
Boring.
Powerful.
Brandon fought everything.
Which made everyone more curious.
While that process unfolded, Ethan asked to meet Emily.
She refused.
Then he asked to send a video.
She refused again.
Finally, he sent a written sworn statement through his attorney.
He admitted signing Emily’s name to the transfer.
He claimed Margaret threatened to remove him from the family business if he refused.
Emily read that line twice.
Then tore a tissue in half.
“Why does every man in that family think another person making them uncomfortable removes their choices?”
I had no answer.
Ethan also admitted he had taken Emily’s phone during the guest-house incident.
He admitted restraining her.
But blamed Brandon for the worst physical violence.
The security footage would decide much of that.
His statement did contain something useful.
According to Ethan, Brandon had been moving money out of Prescott Capital for years.
Emily’s shares became dangerous because her information rights allowed her to request certain books.
She had unknowingly become a threat simply by asking basic questions.
“What kind of money?” I asked.
Cassandra replied:
“Potentially tens of millions.”
Margaret may have known.
Or may have been protecting the company name without asking what Brandon had actually done.
Either possibility was ugly.
Then the private server records began arriving.
The first batch contained audio files.
The second contained financial spreadsheets.
The third contained videos.
One showed Ethan signing Emily’s name.
Dr. Wallace sitting beside him.
Margaret standing behind the camera.
The video was devastating.
Then another file appeared.
Date:
Nine months earlier.
Margaret and Brandon sat inside a conference room.
Brandon said:
“If Emily starts asking for statements, we move her shares.”
Margaret responded:
“Ethan will handle his wife.”
Brandon laughed.
“And if he can’t?”
Margaret’s answer:
“Then we remind people she comes from a military family with its own reputation problems.”
My skin went cold.
They had been discussing me nine months ago.
Before my government card was used.
Before the anonymous complaint.
Before Emily hired a divorce lawyer.
This was premeditated reputation warfare.
But the next video was even worse.
Brandon sat alone with someone off camera.
He slid a folder across the table.
The person’s hand entered the frame.
I recognized the ring.
A West Point class ring.
Brandon said:
“This should be enough to make Colonel Hart busy defending herself.”
My pulse stopped.
The person across from him was not Dr. Wallace.
Not a Prescott.
Someone from my own military world had helped Brandon create the complaint.
And when the camera angle shifted, I recognized him immediately.
May you like
Colonel Marcus Vale.
A man I had served beside for almost fifteen years.
