Chapter 16 - The Truth Grant Never Expected
Grant put the call on speaker.
Matthew’s voice filled the room.
“Hello, Mom.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“Matthew.”
“You sound older.”
“So do you.”
Grant interrupted.
“Where are you?”
“London.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Matthew laughed.
“I’m thirty-eight, Grant. You can stop using the big-brother voice.”
“You’re running Project Harbor.”
Silence.
Then:
“You always were quick once somebody put the answer in front of you.”
Mara stared at the phone.
“Matthew, why?”
“Hello, Mara.”
She stiffened.
“You knew I was alive?”
“Long before Grant did.”
Grant’s fist clenched.
“You were watching her?”
“I was protecting her.”
“By threatening Sophie?”
“That was Voss.”
“And Daniel?”
“Owen’s dog. Then mine when Owen got sentimental.”
Grant looked at Rebecca.
She seemed shattered.
Matthew continued.
“You all keep simplifying this. Good people. Bad people. Victims. Criminals.”
“You stole hundreds of millions.”
“I moved money.”
“From a charity.”
“And put plenty back.”
Grant laughed.
“You want credit?”
“I want you to understand scale.”
“No.”
Matthew’s voice hardened.
“This company funds hospitals, research, pensions. Project Harbor kept deals alive that saved Mercer during downturns.”
“By committing crimes.”
“Dad did the same.”
“And it destroyed him.”
“Dad was weak.”
Rebecca flinched.
Grant heard it.
“Do not talk about him like that.”
“Why? He lied to us our entire lives.”
“So you became worse?”
“I became practical.”
Mara stood.
“You tried to keep me from Sophie.”
Matthew paused.
“I never wanted you hurt.”
“You knew I was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew your niece cried for me.”
“Yes.”
“And you stayed silent.”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
Mara’s eyes filled.
“Then don’t talk to us about practicality.”
Matthew exhaled.
“You were supposed to stay hidden until I cleaned everything.”
“Cleaned?”
“Shut Harbor down gradually.”
Grant looked at the ledger.
“By moving another seventy million last month?”
“Closing accounts requires transfers.”
“Where?”
Matthew did not answer.
Grant understood.
“You were stealing it.”
Matthew laughed.
“Grant, you really think I spent five years risking prison to preserve Dad’s moral contradictions?”
Rebecca whispered, “Oh, Matthew.”
“I deserve something.”
Grant stared.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The truth.”
Matthew went quiet.
Grant continued.
“You were always angry.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze me.”
“I got the company.”
“You got everything.”
“Our father offered you positions.”
“Under you.”
“You left.”
“Because nobody saw me unless I was standing beside Grant Mercer.”
Grant absorbed the resentment.
Matthew had joked about being “the spare Mercer.”
Grant had laughed.
Maybe he should have listened.
“You could have built your own life.”
“I did.”
“With stolen money.”
“With money this family already dirtied.”
Rebecca stood.
“Come home.”
Matthew laughed.
“Why?”
“Because you are not beyond saving.”
“Please.”
“I mean it.”
“You disappeared for twenty-seven years, Mom. You don’t get to rescue me now.”
Rebecca’s face crumpled.
Matthew continued:
“Grant, I’ll make this simple. Give me Rebecca’s ledger.”
“No.”
“Then everything goes public tomorrow.”
“Good.”
Silence.
Matthew had not expected that.
Grant continued.
“I’ll release it myself.”
“Mercer Holdings will lose billions.”
“Probably.”
“People will lose jobs.”
“We’ll protect what we can.”
“Your reputation will be destroyed.”
“My reputation survived my wife being missing for five years. I think I’ll manage.”
Matthew’s tone became colder.
“What about Sophie?”
Grant’s heart stopped.
Mara moved toward the phone.
“Don’t.”
Grant whispered, “Where is she?”
Everyone looked upstairs.
Sophie was supposed to be with federal agents in the garden.
Grant ran.
Empty.
Two agents lay unconscious near the service entrance.
Not dead.
Drugged.
A vehicle had vanished.
Grant’s phone remained on speaker.
Matthew said:
“I learned something from Owen. People cooperate faster when the choice becomes personal.”
Grant nearly crushed the phone.
“If you hurt her—”
“I won’t.”
“Where is my daughter?”
“Mercer Tower.”
Grant froze.
“Why?”
“Because that is where this story began.”
The call ended.
Agent Chen mobilized teams.
Mara grabbed her coat.
“You’re not coming.”
She stared at Grant.
“Try stopping me.”
He did not waste time.
Rebecca insisted on coming too.
“No.”
“He is my son.”
“He abducted my daughter.”
“Our daughter,” Mara corrected automatically.
Even in crisis.
Grant looked at her.
“Stay with Mom.”
Mara shook her head.
“Sophie waited five years for me to come back. I am not making her wait tonight.”
They traveled in an armored federal convoy.
Mercer Tower rose over Manhattan, glass and steel glowing against the night.
Grant had built much of his identity inside that building.
Now his daughter was somewhere near the top.
Matthew called again.
“Grant only.”
“No.”
“Then I leave.”
Grant took the phone.
“What do you want?”
“Ledger. Executive floor. Bring the music box too.”
“The box?”
“Mara’s code gives access to Charles’s digital archive.”
“We already gave evidence to federal agents.”
“Not everything.”
Grant looked at Mara.
She nodded.
Charles had hidden a final archive.
Something Matthew still needed.
Grant entered the tower alone.
Elevator.
Sixty-eight floors.
Each number lighting one after another.
He remembered taking Sophie to the office when she was four.
She spun in his chair.
Asked whether the clouds belonged to them because the building was tall enough to touch them.
The elevator opened.
Matthew stood at the far end.
Sophie sat beside him.
Unharmed.
“Daddy!”
Grant stepped out.
“Let her go.”
Matthew held out a hand.
“The ledger.”
Grant carried a bag.
“And then?”
“She leaves.”
Grant tossed it.
Matthew checked.
The ledger.
He smiled.
“Music box?”
Grant removed it.
Matthew’s expression softened strangely.
“Mara loved that thing.”
“She loves Sophie.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Matthew flinched.
Grant saw it.
He walked closer.
“You remember when she was born?”
“Of course.”
“You held her before Owen did.”
“Stop.”
“You cried.”
“I said stop.”
“You told me she was the first Mercer who might grow up normal.”
Matthew looked toward Sophie.
His face cracked slightly.
Grant continued.
“You still have a choice.”
“No.”
“You do.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand resentment. I understand wasting years. I understand believing one obsession justifies everything.”
Matthew looked at him.
Grant thought of his five-year search.
“You can stop.”
Sirens approached below.
Matthew glanced toward the windows.
“You brought them.”
“They were already coming.”
Matthew grabbed the ledger.
Sophie suddenly stood.
“Uncle Matt.”
He froze.
She walked toward him.
Grant’s heart stopped.
“Sophie, stay back.”
She ignored him.
“You’re making Mommy cry.”
Matthew stared.
Sophie continued:
“She just came home.”
His hand lowered.
“I know.”
“Please don’t make her leave again.”
Something broke.
Matthew looked down at the ledger.
Then at Grant.
Then he laughed once.
“Kids.”
He handed the ledger back.
“Always terrible for business.”
Grant exhaled.
Matthew stepped away from Sophie.
Federal agents entered.
He raised his hands.
Then a shot shattered the glass wall.
Everyone ducked.
Matthew fell.
Grant stared.
Blood spread across his shoulder.
Not fatal.
Sniper.
Across the avenue.
Daniel Reeve.
Still free.
Matthew gasped:
“He’s not trying to save me.”
Grant dragged him behind a desk.
“Then who is he trying to kill?”
Matthew looked toward Sophie.
Grant’s blood froze.
The final player in Project Harbor had come to erase every witness.
May you like
Starting with Grant’s daughter.
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