Chapter 7: The Thing He Was Hiding
Daniel was waiting in the lobby when I came down the next morning.
Not Gerald's lobby.
The private entrance off the east corridor, the one that required a staff key.
He was standing with his coat on, like he had arrived in a hurry and hadn't decided yet whether to stay.
My son was upstairs with Gerald's assistant, eating breakfast.
I had made sure of that.
"You didn't have to come in person," I said.
"You weren't answering my messages."
"I answered the first one.
I said I'd be in touch after the meeting."
"There shouldn't be a meeting." He stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"Nora, listen to me.
This isn't just about the payments.
There's more to this than you know."
"Then tell me."
He glanced toward the corridor entrance.
"Not here."
"You said that last night.
And the night before that, you told me to be careful about pulling threads." I looked at him directly.
"I'm done waiting for you to decide when I'm ready to hear things.
Say it now or I walk out that door."
His jaw tightened.
He looked, for a moment, like the version of my brother I remembered from childhood — the one who got caught and was calculating how much to admit.
"The addendum isn't the only document in that folder," he said.
I waited.
"There's a second agreement.
Dad had it drafted six months before he died.
It was never executed — he changed his mind — but it exists." He paused.
"It would have transferred a fifteen percent ownership stake in the Voss properties to Clara Harte directly."
"He changed his mind," I said slowly.
"He changed his mind because I talked him out of it." Daniel's voice was flat.
"She would have had a seat at the table, Nora.
Voting rights.
Access to the financials.
Everything."
"And you didn't want that."
"I didn't want a stranger walking in and dismantling what this family built."
"She's not a stranger.
She's his daughter."
"She's the daughter of a woman who—"
"Stop." I kept my voice quiet.
"Stop saying that.
Whatever you think about Rosalind Harte, Clara is twenty-three years old and she has spent her entire life being managed and minimized by this family.
She didn't choose any of this."
Daniel looked at me for a long moment.
Then something shifted in his expression.
Not softness.
Something more calculated.
"If you reinstate the payments and meet with her, she'll want more," he said.
"That's how this goes.
First the money.
Then a conversation.
Then a lawyer.
Then the fifteen percent her father almost gave her.
And once that happens, our control of the estate is diluted.
The board positions, the licensing relationships, the development approvals — all of it becomes harder to protect."
"You're on the hospitality authority board, Daniel.
You've been using that position to protect our licensing interests for years." I watched his face.
"Have you been using it to block her too?"
His silence was its own answer.
"There's a word for that," I said.
"Don't."
"Conflict of interest.
At minimum." I picked up my bag.
"At worst, it's something the authority's ethics committee would find very interesting."
He grabbed my arm.
Not hard.
But he grabbed it.
"You would do that to your own brother."
I looked down at his hand.
He let go.
"I would do what's right," I said.
"Which is what you should have done eight months ago."
I walked toward the door.
"Nora." His voice followed me.
"That second document — the unexecuted one.
I have the only copy."
I stopped.
Turned back.
"Gerald made a copy," I said.
"The night Dad changed his mind.
He told me this morning."
May you like
Daniel's face went still.
I left him standing in the corridor.
