PART 7: THE SILENT INQUIRY
PART 7: THE SILENT INQUIRY
I spent the next three hours sitting alone in the dark office, the red light of the security panel blinking continuously on the wall.
The city's master registry stamp on my portfolio felt meaningless now.
I picked up the phone and dialed Marcus Bell’s private number.
"Marcus," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I need the encrypted file from the Wilmington port authority, dated October 2024."
There was a long pause on the other side of the line, the sound of static heavy between us.
"Mr. Bennett," Marcus said, his voice laced with sudden anxiety. "That file was sealed by the federal court during the asset forfeiture. Accessing it without a judicial order is a felony."
"Access it anyway," I said flatly.
"Is everything okay, sir?"
"The ledger isn't balanced, Marcus," I said, staring at the crimson folder on my desk. "Someone else has been writing in the margins."
I hung up and walked over to the glass window.
Down below, the streets of the city were quiet, the streetlamps casting long, thin shadows over the concrete paths.
I thought about Lily.
I thought about her genuine, relaxed laughter in the park that morning.
I had built this empire to keep her safe from the predators who carried polished folders and half-million-dollar threats.
But the biggest predator wasn't an Ashford.
It was the ghost of my own brother, a man who had spent his final days trading secrets for gold.
May you like
The phone on my desk vibrated, a short, sharp text message from an unknown number.
The meeting is at 3:00 a.m. at the Wilmington dock. Bring the folder.
