Chapter 6: What Victor Said When He Thought He Still Had the Upper Hand
Victor called me at noon.
I had been expecting it.
I let it ring twice before I answered.
"Marcus." His voice was warm.
Familiar.
The voice he used at family dinners when he wanted something.
"I think we should talk.
Man to man.
Before this becomes something neither of us wants."
"I'm listening."
"Whatever you found — whatever your mother showed you — I want you to understand the context.
Serena was in a difficult place.
She came to me.
I was trying to help her.
The legal arrangement was meant to protect Mei, not to harm you."
"You filed a guardianship petition using forged letterhead from my law firm."
A short pause.
"That was an administrative error.
The wrong template was used.
It was never meant to be filed — it was a draft."
"It was filed, Victor.
Four months ago."
"Marcus.
Listen to me." His voice shifted.
Dropped.
"You and I are family.
We have been our whole lives.
I don't want to be your enemy.
But I need you to understand something.
If this goes to court — if you push this — there are things that will come out about your company that you do not want in front of a judge."
I kept my voice flat.
"What things?"
"The Meridian account.
The offshore restructuring in 2021.
I know about it, Marcus.
I know all of it.
And if you force my hand, I will use it."
There it was.
"That's interesting," I said.
"Tell me more about what you know."
"Don't play games with me."
"I'm not playing anything.
You called me.
You brought it up.
Tell me specifically what you think you know about the Meridian account."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"I have documentation," he said.
"From where?"
"That's not your concern."
"It is, actually.
Because the Meridian account was a fully disclosed restructuring reviewed by three separate compliance teams and signed off by the revenue authority.
There is nothing in it that a judge would find interesting.
So whoever told you it was leverage — told you wrong."
Silence.
"Victor.
You've been planning this for nearly two years.
You're in my house, in my company documents, in my daughter's guardianship papers.
And the best threat you have is a clean account that was publicly filed."
"You don't know everything I have."
"No," I said.
"But I know what you don't have.
And I know what Grace Adeyemi found this morning."
The line went very quiet.
He knew that name.
I could tell by the quality of the silence.
"She's thorough," I said.
"She found the trust.
She found the beneficial ownership transfer.
She found the filing dates.
She found the forged letterhead.
And she found something else — something you and Serena apparently didn't think to move before last night."
"What are you talking about?"
"The secondary account.
The one the trust distributions were supposed to flow into.
The one registered in your wife's maiden name."
I heard him breathe.
"That's your wife's account, Victor.
Not Serena's.
Yours.
Which means whatever Serena told you about how this was structured — she wasn't planning to share."
The silence stretched.
"You should talk to your wife," I said.
"Before you talk to your attorney.
I think you'll find the conversation informative."
I ended the call.
Daniel called back four minutes later.
"He just called his attorney," Daniel said.
"And then he called Serena.
She didn't pick up."
"She's in the garden," I said.
"She went out about twenty minutes ago."
"Is she on her phone?"
I looked through the study window.
Serena was standing near the far hedge, her back to the house, her phone pressed to her ear.
"Yes," I said.
"She's not calling Victor back," Daniel said.
"She's calling someone else.
We're working on who."
I watched her through the glass.
She was very still.
Whoever was on the other end of the call, she was listening more than talking.
Then she turned and looked directly at the study window.
She couldn't see me through the reflection.
But she looked at the window for a long time before she went back to her call.
May you like
"Daniel," I said.
"Whatever Grace still needs to find — she needs to find it today."
