Chapter 4 - Decoding the Drive
Ethan stared at me as if the air had been violently sucked out of the room.
His pupils contracted, and his mouth fell open in utter, paralyzed shock.
“My... my father?” he stammered, the words catching in his throat.
“The police report said the brakes failed on the Taconic State Parkway during a blizzard.”
“They ruled it an unavoidable mechanical tragedy caused by black ice.”
“He was only fifty-five years old, Claire... he was my best friend.”
Tears filled Ethan's eyes, spilling over his dark eyelashes and tracking down his hollow cheeks.
“Your mother paid the chief mechanic at the Harrison private motor pool two million dollars,” I said.
“She had the brake lines filed down before your father left for the upstate shareholder retreat.”
“All the wire transfers, the off-shore accounts in the Caymans, and the mechanic’s confession are on that drive.”
Ethan stood up so abruptly that the heavy leather armchair screeched against the floor.
He ran both hands through his thick hair, pacing like a caged animal between the bed and the window.
“No... no, she is cold, she is cruel, but she couldn't murder my father,” he muttered frantically.
“Arthur Harrison was going to remove her from the family trust,” I explained gently.
“He discovered she was funneling hundreds of millions of company funds into illegal overseas shell companies.”
“If he had filed for divorce, she would have walked away with nothing but a public scandal.”
“So she killed him, took control of his estate, and placed you at the head of the company to hide behind you.”
Ethan stopped pacing and stared out the massive window at the city below.
His reflection in the dark glass showed a man whose entire foundation had just crumbled to dust.
Every memory he had of his mother comforting him at his father's funeral was a monstrous lie.
Every tear she had shed over Arthur Harrison’s mahogany casket had been an Oscar-worthy performance.
Suddenly, Ethan turned around, his eyes burning with a terrifying, absolute clarity.
The grief on his face vanished, replaced by an iron determination that made him look a decade older.
He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his encrypted satellite smartphone.
He hit a single speed-dial button and held the phone to his ear.
“Julian, I need you at Manhattan Presbyterian VIP Suite 402 right now,” Ethan spoke into the receiver.
“Bring the military-grade forensic laptop and the signal-jamming equipment.”
“Do not tell anyone where you are going, especially not anyone from Harrison executive security.”
“If anyone follows you, lose them or call the police.”
Ethan ended the call without waiting for an answer and slid the phone back into his pocket.
“Julian Hayes is the head of our private cybersecurity division,” Ethan told me, returning to my side.
“He was Arthur’s most trusted protégé before he took over digital forensics for the firm.”
“If there is data on that drive, Julian will extract every single byte without corrupting the metadata.”
Ethan picked up the teddy bear from the bed and smoothed down the torn fur along its spine.
He looked at the little toy with profound sadness and reverence.
“You risked your life to protect this,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.
“When you felt sick, you didn't run away... you stayed to protect my father’s memory.”
“I stayed to protect you, Ethan,” I replied, reaching out to touch his cheek.
“She was never going to stop with me.”
“Once I was out of the way, you would have been the only person standing between her and total control.”
Before Ethan could reply, his phone began vibrating violently on the nightstand.
The caller ID flashed with the name he had revered his entire life: *MOTHER*.
Ethan stared at the glowing screen for three long rings.
He swiped the green icon and put the call on speaker, placing the phone between us.
“Ethan, listen to me very carefully,” Margaret’s voice came through, completely stripped of panic.
She was no longer crying; her tone had transformed into something chillingly cold and calculating.
“I am standing in the lobby with Bradley Sterling and three partners from our legal counsel,” she said.
“Whatever nonsense that girl fed you is completely fabricated digital evidence.”
“She is working with corporate rivals to blackmail the Harrison family and seize your voting shares.”
“If you open that drive, you will trigger proprietary security protocols that will destroy the company stock.”
Ethan listened to her voice, his face completely devoid of emotion.
“Where are you, Margaret?” Ethan asked softly.
“I am coming back up to your room with our attorneys and a private medical transport,” she announced.
“Claire is mentally unstable and will be transferred to a secure psychiatric facility in Westchester tonight.”
“And you and I will handle this matter privately in the boardroom tomorrow morning.”
A dark, mirthless smile touched the corners of Ethan’s lips.
“Did you really think I wouldn't recognize my father's handwriting on the ledger scans she described?” he asked.
There was a sudden, dead silence on the other end of the line.
Margaret’s sharp intake of breath was clearly audible over the speaker.
“Ethan... you don't know what you are doing,” she whispered, the ice in her voice cracking.
“I know exactly what I am doing,” Ethan replied, his voice dropping into a deadly whisper.
“You killed my father, you tried to murder my wife, and you used my love to protect your empire.”
“Do not come back up to this floor, Margaret.”
“Because the next time I see your face, you will be wearing iron chains.”
May you like
Ethan hung up the call and smashed the phone down onto the table.
Outside the VIP suite, the elevator chime rang, signaling an arrival on the private floor.
