Chapter 7 - The Broken Chain
While Hannah built her new role at Mercer Urban Systems, Ethan began the systematic dismantling of the shadow network his mother had used to control his life.
In a quiet private dining room at an exclusive uptown club, Ethan sat across from Richard Miller—his former executive assistant who had been fired two days after Christmas.
Richard was forty-five, pale, wearing a crumpled suit, his hands trembling as he stared into his coffee cup.
“I didn't have a choice, Ethan,” Richard stammered, his voice desperate. “Your mother held my mortgage! She threatened to make sure I never worked in corporate administration in New York again if I didn't filter your calls while you were in Chicago!”
Ethan sat back in his leather chair, his face unreadable. “How much did she pay you to answer Hannah’s call from Pennsylvania?”
Richard closed his eyes, tears of shame leaking out. “Ten thousand dollars. She told me Hannah was just trying to extort money from the firm. I didn't know she was pregnant, Ethan! I swear on my life I didn't know about the baby!”
Ethan pulled a pen and a single sheet of paper from his jacket, laying it on the table between them.
“This is a full confession of your involvement in the interception of my personal communications and corporate fraud,” Ethan said flatly. “Sign it.”
“If I sign this, the district attorney will pull my administrative license!” Richard pleaded.
“If you sign it, I will agree not to press personal criminal charges against you,” Ethan corrected, his voice dropping into ice. “If you don't sign it, my legal team will file a civil fraud lawsuit by three o’clock today that will strip you of every cent you own.”
Richard looked at the pen, his hands shaking violently. With a trembling fingers, he picked up the pen and signed his name at the bottom of the page.
Ethan picked up the signed paper, blew on the ink, and folded it neatly into his pocket.
“Where is the original file Victoria kept on Hannah?” Ethan asked.
May you like
Richard swallowed hard. “In a safe deposit box at Chase Bank on 57th Street. Box number 412. Your mother kept all the background reports her private investigator ran on Hannah over the last five years.”
Ethan stood up, adjusting his cuffs. “Thank you for your cooperation, Richard. Enjoy your retirement.”
