Chapter 14 - THE TOWER
Whitmore Tower had my family name carved into forty-two floors of glass and steel.
That night, I hated every inch of it.
Harold wanted Michael and the ledger.
The FBI wanted a controlled operation.
I wanted my wife alive.
Michael volunteered immediately.
“I’m going.”
My father said, “So am I.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
“Daniel—”
“You’ve spent thirty years making decisions for me.”
He stopped.
“Then make this one.”
“I need you outside.”
His jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“Because if this goes wrong, my mother has already lost enough.”
He looked at Evelyn.
She looked away.
But he nodded.
At 9:17 p.m., Michael and I entered the tower.
Agents watched through concealed cameras.
The lobby was dark.
Harold’s voice came over the speaker system.
“Elevator.”
We entered.
Floor 41.
Executive boardroom.
The same room where my grandfather’s portrait hung.
Harold sat at the far end of the table.
Natalie was beside him.
Hands tied.
A gun against her ribs.
Her eyes found mine.
“Daniel.”
“I’m here.”
Harold smiled.
“You always were dramatic.”
I stared at him.
“You kidnapped my mother.”
“Messy necessity.”
“You framed me.”
“Insurance.”
“You tried to kill Victor.”
“Victor became sentimental.”
Michael placed the USB drive on the table.
“There.”
Harold laughed.
“Michael. Still pretending you’re the good brother.”
“I never pretended.”
Harold’s smile faded.
“Smartest thing you ever said.”
I took one step forward.
“Let Natalie go.”
“When I verify the drive.”
He inserted it into a laptop.
Seconds passed.
Then he smiled.
“Beautiful.”
I looked around.
No sign he knew the FBI was watching.
Then Harold closed the laptop.
“You know what your grandfather’s real mistake was?”
I said nothing.
“He felt guilty.”
I laughed.
“That’s not what I heard.”
“Oh, he did. Eventually.”
Harold stood.
“He planned to expose everything before he died.”
Michael stared at him.
“The letter.”
“Part of it.”
“You stopped him?”
Harold smiled.
My skin went cold.
My grandfather had supposedly died from a stroke.
Michael whispered, “What did you do?”
“Nothing dramatic.”
Harold shrugged.
“Medication can be complicated at that age.”
Natalie looked horrified.
“You killed him?”
“He created a fortune and then threatened to destroy it because he discovered morality at seventy-eight.”
He shook his head.
“Pathetic.”
Michael lunged.
Harold shoved the gun against Natalie’s neck.
“Sit down!”
Michael froze.
Harold looked at me.
“Your grandfather understood power once. Your father never did.”
I said, “And you do?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“You understand fear.”
I stepped closer.
“Power is getting people to stay when they can leave.”
Harold laughed.
“You sound like a greeting card.”
“Maybe.”
Another step.
“But everybody around you is here because they’re terrified of you.”
Harold’s face hardened.
“Natalie is here because you dragged her here.”
Another step.
“Michael is here because you blackmailed him.”
Another.
“You’re alone, Harold.”
He raised the gun toward me.
That was what I wanted.
Natalie moved.
She drove her elbow into his ribs.
The gun fired.
Glass exploded behind me.
Michael tackled Harold.
I grabbed Natalie and pulled her away.
Harold hit Michael with the gun.
Michael fell.
Then Harold aimed at him.
I charged.
We slammed into the conference table.
Gun skidded across the floor.
Harold punched me.
I hit him back.
Years of confusion.
Rage.
Everything exploded.
He grabbed my throat.
“You spoiled little bastard.”
I drove my knee into his stomach.
He stumbled backward.
Toward the shattered window.
His heel slipped.
Suddenly half his body hung over forty-one floors of empty air.
I caught his wrist.
Natalie screamed.
Harold looked down.
Then at me.
“Help me.”
Everything stopped.
This man kidnapped my mother.
Framed me.
Tried to murder Victor.
Threatened my wife.
I could let go.
One movement.
One second.
And every ugly thing would end.
Harold saw it in my face.
“Daniel…”
My grip tightened.
Then I pulled.
Michael grabbed his other arm.
Together, we dragged him inside.
Harold collapsed onto the carpet.
FBI agents stormed through the doors.
He was handcuffed.
As they dragged him away, he stared at me.
“Why?”
I looked at him.
“Because I’m done letting men in this family decide who deserves to disappear.”
Then Natalie ran into my arms.
I held her so hard she laughed through her tears.
“I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
I kissed her.
Our first kiss as husband and wife without cameras.
Without applause.
Without lies.
Then my eyes moved toward Michael.
He was sitting against the wall.
Blood soaked through his shirt.
“Michael?”
He looked down.
May you like
The bullet Harold fired had hit him.
And there was far too much blood.
