Chapter 3 - Arthur’s Perfect Son
Grant had always been the son Arthur wanted.
He never questioned.
He never resisted.
He learned early that loyalty to our father came with rewards.
Cars.
Homes.
Titles.
By thirty, Grant was president of Vale Maritime.
By thirty-five, he was CEO.
By thirty-eight, magazines called him the future of American shipping.
He was also terrified of Arthur.
I discovered that the morning after the gala.
Grant came to my hotel at 6:12 a.m.
He knocked three times.
When I opened the door, he pushed past me.
“You need to leave.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He turned.
“You don’t understand what you’re doing.”
“I understand perfectly.”
“No, you don’t.”
He looked exhausted.
The smug man from the ballroom was gone.
“What did Dad tell you?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s worse.”
I poured coffee.
Grant stared at me.
“You really became a commander?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I looked at him.
“When?”
He said nothing.
“When you ignored my calls?”
Silence.
“When you returned my letters?”
His eyes dropped.
“When Mom died and you told security not to let me into the funeral?”
Grant looked away.
“That was Dad.”
“You stood beside him.”
“I was twenty-seven.”
“So was I.”
That hit him.
He sat down.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he whispered, “Meridian isn’t what you think.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Then leave.”
“Celeste.”
I opened the door.
Grant didn’t move.
“People will get hurt.”
“They already have.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Thirty-seven sailors almost burned alive.”
His face changed.
There it was again.
Fear.
I closed the door.
“You knew.”
Grant shook his head.
“You knew those modules were aboard that vessel.”
“No.”
“But you knew Meridian was active.”
He stood.
“I came here to warn you.”
“About Dad?”
Grant looked toward the window.
“No.”
That answer chilled me.
“Then who?”
Before he could answer, his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His face drained.
“Grant?”
He declined the call.
Immediately, it rang again.
Same number.
“Who is it?”
He whispered, “Nobody.”
I stepped closer.
“Who?”
He answered.
“Hello?”
I couldn’t hear the voice.
But I watched my brother.
His shoulders stiffened.
His eyes moved toward me.
Then the caller said something that made him close his eyes.
“I understand.”
He hung up.
“What did they say?”
Grant grabbed his coat.
“I have to go.”
I blocked the door.
“Grant.”
He looked at me.
For the first time since we were children, my brother looked genuinely afraid.
“They know you’re investigating Meridian.”
“Who?”
May you like
He swallowed.
“Everyone.”
