Chapter 6: Marcus at the Door
He arrived at half past ten.
Not alone.
He brought a man in a dark suit who carried a leather briefcase and did not introduce himself.
Marcus Cross was forty-four years old, broad through the shoulders, with the kind of face that had learned early that confidence was more useful than charm.
He walked into the Archer estate as though he had been there before — because he had.
Nathan met him in the entrance hall.
"Marcus."
"Nathan." Marcus looked past him toward the sitting room.
"I'd like to speak with your grandfather."
"My grandfather is resting."
"I'm sure he can make an exception." Marcus's tone was pleasant.
It was the pleasantness of someone who did not expect to be told no.
"He can't." Nathan did not move.
"You can speak with me."
Marcus studied him for a moment.
Then he smiled — the kind of smile that does not reach the eyes because it was never intended to.
"Of course.
Is there somewhere we can sit?"
They went to the library.
Nathan left the door open.
Claire stood in the hallway just outside, where she could hear without being seen.
Ruth had suggested it.
Claire had agreed without needing to be convinced.
Marcus set his briefcase on the table.
His lawyer opened it but did not remove anything yet.
"I'll be direct," Marcus said.
"My sister called me tonight.
She told me about the conversation in the sitting room.
The photograph.
The claims your grandfather made." He folded his hands.
"I want you to understand that I have no interest in making this unpleasant.
I have a great deal of respect for your family."
"That's good to hear," Nathan said.
"But I also have a responsibility to protect my family's interests.
And those interests include an understanding — a longstanding understanding — between the Archer and Cross families." Marcus tilted his head slightly.
"You're aware of the history."
"I learned about it tonight," Nathan said.
"My grandfather was thorough."
Something shifted in Marcus's expression.
He had expected less.
"Then you understand the position."
"I understand that your father made a loan in 1987.
I understand that the loan was repaid.
I understand that your family has been collecting on a debt that no longer exists." Nathan's voice was even.
"I also understand that you encouraged your sister to pursue a relationship with me as a way of formalizing an arrangement that was never put in writing."
"Encouraged is a strong word."
"What word would you use?"
Marcus was quiet for a beat.
"Facilitated," he said.
"With everyone's knowledge and benefit in mind."
"Vivienne's benefit," Nathan said.
"Your benefit.
Not mine."
"Nathan." Marcus leaned forward slightly.
"Your grandfather is eighty years old.
He has made, tonight, a set of claims that — even if true — have significant legal and financial implications.
A woman who has been employed in this house for less than a year is now being positioned as a potential heir to one of the largest private estates in the country." He paused.
"I think you can understand why that raises questions."
"I think I can understand why it threatens a plan," Nathan said.
Marcus sat back.
He looked at his lawyer.
The lawyer looked at the briefcase.
"I'd like to propose something simple," Marcus said.
"A sixty-day pause.
No legal filings.
No estate changes.
No public statements.
Sixty days for everyone to have the situation reviewed by independent counsel, for any DNA claims to be properly verified, and for cooler heads to—"
"No," Nathan said.
Marcus stopped.
"No pause," Nathan said.
"No delay.
If you have a legal claim against this estate, file it.
If you have documentation of a binding agreement, produce it.
If you have anything other than a handshake from 1987 and a family expectation, I'd like to see it."
Marcus looked at him for a long moment.
The pleasantness had not left his face, but it had thinned.
"You're making a mistake," he said.
"Maybe."
"Your grandfather is not well.
He is making emotional decisions based on guilt.
That is not a sound basis for restructuring a nine-billion-dollar estate."
"My grandfather's health is not your concern."
"It becomes my concern when it affects agreements that have governed two families for thirty years." Marcus stood.
His lawyer closed the briefcase.
"I came here tonight to give you an opportunity to handle this quietly.
I want you to know that I came in good faith."
"I know why you came," Nathan said.
In the hallway, Claire heard the chair scrape.
She heard footsteps.
She pressed herself back slightly against the wall.
Marcus appeared in the doorway.
He stopped when he saw her.
He looked at her the way people look at problems they had not expected to find standing upright.
"Ms.
Bennett," he said.
Claire met his eyes.
"Mr.
Cross."
He studied her face for a moment.
Whatever he was looking for, he found enough of it to make his jaw tighten.
"You should think carefully," he said, "about what you're stepping into."
"I've been thinking about it all evening," Claire said.
"I'm not done yet."
Marcus looked at her for one more second.
Then he walked past her toward the front door.
His lawyer followed.
Neither of them looked back.
The door closed.
Nathan came out of the library.
He stood beside Claire in the hallway and they both looked at the closed door.
"He'll file something by morning," Nathan said.
"Probably," Claire said.
"Are you frightened?"
Claire thought about it honestly.
"No," she said.
"But I think I should be."
Nathan almost smiled.
It was the first time all evening.
Then his phone buzzed again.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed completely.
He turned the phone so Claire could see it.
It was a message from Vivienne.
May you like
Four words.
*I have the letters.*
