Chapter 18 - The Unmarked Account
"What is that supposed to mean?" Mia asked, sensing an immediate shift in the room's atmosphere.
Victoria reached into her designer bag, pulled out a thumb drive, and tossed it onto the mahogany conference table.
"You found the Treasury papers," Victoria said softly, her eyes glinting. "Congratulations. Eleanor was a master archivist. But did she ever tell you what Michael Mercer did with the money Charles Bellamy supposedly stole?"
Daniel stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "My father died of a heart attack trying to clear his name."
"Your father didn't die of a heart attack, Daniel," Victoria said, her words dropping like lead weights onto the floor. "He took an overdose of digitalis in a hotel room in Geneva thirty-six hours after meeting with Charles Bellamy. And that thumb drive contains the offshore bank records showing where the missing union strike fund actually went."
Natalie moved quickly to plug the drive into her tablet. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, bypassing the encryption protocols. A ledger dated 1958 appeared on the screen.
The name on the Swiss numbered account was not Charles Bellamy.
It was *Eleanor Mercer*.
Daniel felt the floor beneath his feet tilt. The air in his lungs turned to ash. "No. That is a forgery."
"It's authenticated by Credit Suisse," Victoria whispered, stepping closer, her hazel eyes burning into Daniel’s. "Your saintly mother didn't protect the family from the Bellamys. She made a pact with my grandfather. Charles took the blame for the strike fund, and Eleanor took the cash to finance your company’s first container cranes. Your entire legacy—every brick of Havenwood, every crane at the port, every nickel you pride yourself on—was bought with the blood of starving dockworkers."
"That's a lie," Mia said fiercely, her voice breaking. "Grandmother Eleanor spent her life serving the community!"
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"Ask Daniel," Victoria mocked. "Look at his face. He remembers the arguments behind closed doors. He remembers the whispers."
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