Chapter 15 - Edward Becomes His Father
Edward’s lawyers told him to say nothing publicly.
He agreed.
For six hours.
Then Sterling Crown’s lenders demanded reassurance.
Employees wanted to know whether jobs were safe.
Charles issued a statement blaming Edward’s “reckless historical crusade” for Orpheus’s departure.
Edward’s patience broke.
He scheduled a press conference.
Claire opposed it.
Agnes opposed it.
Outside counsel begged him to cancel.
Edward went anyway.
He stood beneath the Sterling Crown logo and said:
“My father made decisions in 1979 that are now under investigation. I will not defend conduct merely because it belongs to my family.”
Good.
Then he made the mistake.
He continued.
“However, Sterling Crown today remains fundamentally sound, and I am confident no current executive other than those already identified participated in any intentional wrongdoing.”
Claire, watching from home, whispered, “Edward.”
He had gone too far.
He did not know that.
Within two hours regulators disclosed they were examining Heritage approvals carrying Edward’s electronic signature.
News channels replayed his assurance beside those documents.
Charles called him dishonest.
The board expanded Edward’s suspension.
Agnes came to his house.
“You tried to control the story.”
Edward stood near the window.
“I was protecting employees.”
“You promised a fact you didn’t know.”
“I know I didn’t steal.”
“That is not what you said.”
He turned angrily.
“Do you enjoy this?”
“What?”
“Watching me discover my father’s sins?”
Agnes stared.
Edward regretted it immediately.
She picked up her purse.
“Sit down.”
“Agnes—”
“Sit.”
Something in her voice made the billionaire obey.
She remained standing.
“Do you think I enjoyed kneeling on your casino floor while strangers watched my medicine roll under a table?”
“No.”
“Do you think I enjoyed telling my daughter I took Arthur’s money?”
“No.”
“Do you think Victor enjoyed learning his father sold silence?”
“No.”
Agnes leaned closer.
“Then stop treating accountability like something being done to you.”
Edward looked away.
She continued.
“You made a mistake at that podium.”
“Yes.”
“Say that.”
“I made a mistake.”
“Again.”
He looked at her.
“I made a mistake.”
Agnes sat.
“Good.”
That evening Edward contacted regulators and corrected his statement formally.
His lawyers hated it.
The board noticed.
So did Claire.
Meanwhile, Grant Mercer resurfaced.
He contacted Claire through an attorney.
He wanted protection.
Charles, he claimed, had ordered him to move archive boxes and destroy selected materials.
“Did he order the cameras disabled?” Claire asked during a lawyer-supervised interview.
“Yes.”
“Where is the 1979 fire box?”
Grant swallowed.
“I moved it.”
“Where?”
“Back to the west sublevel.”
Claire stared.
“It isn’t there.”
“I left it.”
“Who removed it?”
“Charles.”
Grant’s attorney touched his arm.
Grant continued anyway.
“He said there were photographs that could identify Dean Rourke.”
“The contractor Walter paid?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Something else.”
“What?”
“A photograph of Arthur standing beside the fuel containers before the fire.”
Edward went still.
Agnes stared.
That sounded devastating.
“Why would Arthur be there?” Victor asked.
Grant shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Charles had the photograph now.
The implication was obvious.
Maybe Arthur had been more involved in the planned fire than Agnes knew.
Maybe the founder had not merely covered up afterward.
Maybe he had helped plan it.
Edward’s face closed again.
Agnes whispered, “We don’t know what the photograph means.”
Edward laughed bitterly.
“You sound like me.”
“Yes.”
That evening Charles contacted Edward.
“I’ll give you the photograph.”
“For what?”
“Resign permanently.”
Edward went silent.
Charles continued.
“You withdraw from the board. Publicly accept responsibility for Heritage oversight. I stabilize lenders.”
“And the photograph?”
“You get the original.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because you still want Arthur to be less guilty than he was.”
The cruelty worked.
Edward almost accepted.
He told Agnes.
She asked one question.
“What do you care about more?”
“My father.”
“No.”
She held his gaze.
“What do you care about more than the truth?”
Edward looked down.
For the first time, he had no answer.
Then Claire called.
Smoke had been detected in the west-service sublevel.
Not an alarm malfunction.
Smoke.
May you like
The same corridor targeted in 1979.
And the acting security director had just reported that Charles Sterling was inside.
