Chapter 10 - The Marriage Nobody Told Me About
Richard Mercer had suffered a stroke.
He could speak.
Barely.
When I entered the hospital room, he smiled.
Not kindly.
“Eleanor’s girl.”
“Where’s Ledger Four?”
His laugh came crooked.
“Like her.”
“Where is it?”
“Too late.”
“What did you mean about my marriage?”
His eyes sharpened.
“Already married.”
“I’m not married.”
“Legally.”
My blood chilled.
“To whom?”
He laughed again.
“Not who.”
“What?”
“Not who.”
He struggled to breathe.
“Which company.”
I understood.
A corporate marriage.
Whitmore and Cole.
“Did Mom merge ownership?”
Richard’s smile faded.
“You really don’t know.”
He told me.
Years before Ethan and I met, my mother restructured part of my inheritance into a private holding entity.
MW Heritage.
Mary Whitmore Heritage.
That entity inherited the twenty-four percent beneficial interest in Cole Meridian.
But it also held seventeen percent of Whitmore Capital.
The two ownership positions were legally cross-collateralized.
I controlled a bridge between both companies.
A bridge powerful enough to decide any merger.
“So everyone needed me.”
“Yes.”
“Victor.”
“Yes.”
“Ethan.”
“Yes.”
“You.”
His eyes gleamed.
“Yes.”
“What did you want?”
“Freedom.”
“From what?”
“Your family.”
He explained.
Richard’s father had worked for Charles Whitmore.
For thirty years.
Charles allegedly stole an early logistics company from him.
That company later became one of the foundations of Whitmore Capital.
Richard grew up believing the Whitmores built wealth on his father’s ruin.
He spent his adult life positioning himself inside both families.
He became Thomas Cole’s attorney.
Victor’s adviser.
Brooke’s father.
He created competing schemes and encouraged everyone to betray everyone else.
“Did you kill my mother?”
He stared.
“No.”
“Did you leave her dying?”
“Yes.”
The honesty stunned me.
“Why?”
“Because she had Ledger Four.”
“You could have called for help.”
“Yes.”
“You let her die for a book?”
His eyes hardened.
“For my father.”
“You’re pathetic.”
Maybe cruel.
True.
“Who changed her medication?”
His face shifted.
“What?”
“Who caused the aneurysm?”
“I didn’t.”
“Richard.”
“I didn’t.”
For the first time, I believed him.
“Then who?”
His eyes moved toward the doorway.
Brooke stood there.
She had followed me.
Richard saw his daughter.
His face collapsed.
“No.”
Brooke stepped closer.
“Dad.”
“No.”
“You know.”
“No.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I found the bottle.”
Richard began pulling at his blanket.
“Leave.”
“Mom’s bottle.”
I looked between them.
Brooke’s mother, Catherine Mercer, died seven years earlier.
Cancer.
“What bottle?”
Brooke held up an old prescription container.
The label bore my mother’s name.
Eleanor Whitmore.
My stomach dropped.
“Where did you get that?”
“My mother’s things.”
Richard started shouting.
“No!”
Nurses rushed in.
Brooke cried.
“My mother had Eleanor’s medication.”
Richard’s heart monitor spiked.
“Why?”
He stared at his daughter.
Then whispered.
“Because Catherine hated her.”
The story changed again.
Catherine Mercer had been my mother’s college roommate.
Her closest friend before my father.
Then Jonathan chose Eleanor.
Catherine married Richard.
But she never forgave either of them.
Seven years before my mother died, Catherine was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
According to Richard, she became obsessed with the Whitmores.
But Catherine died four years before Mom.
She couldn’t have switched the medication.
Unless the bottle meant something else.
Richard began crying.
“I should have destroyed it.”
“What?”
“The formula.”
My father entered behind us.
Richard saw him.
And screamed.
“You.”
Dad froze.
Richard pointed.
“You knew.”
“Knew what?”
“Catherine’s research.”
My mother’s medication had not been altered by Catherine.
It had been altered using a compound Catherine designed.
And according to Richard, only three people had access to that formula after her death.
Richard.
Brooke.
And Ethan.
Brooke stared at Ethan.
May you like
Ethan stared at her.
I realized the affair might not have been the darkest secret either of them had been hiding.
