Chapter 3 - The Thirty-Ninth FloorBack at Graves Tower, the interrogation room in the basement security wing was completely soundproof. Malcolm sat handcuffed to a stainless-steel table, looking completely unfazed as Nathaniel walked in, slamming a heavy steel box onto the table. It was the locked metal box the paramedics had pulled from beneath the floorboards of our apartment.
"Open it," Nathaniel commanded.
Malcolm chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. "You think you’ve won, Nathaniel? You think because you found a street brat and a half-dead woman, the board of directors is going to hand the empire over to you?"
"The empire?" Nathaniel slammed his hand down on the table, making the metal box rattle. "You stole my daughter. You fabricated her death, you forced her into hiding, and you kidnapped my grandson. That isn't business, Malcolm. That's treason."
"Treason?" Malcolm’s expression twisted into a mask of bitter hatred. "Father left the entire controlling stake to her. Not to me—the son who spent thirty years building Graves Energy brick by brick, but to a rebellious twenty-two-year-old girl who wanted to run off with some environmental activist! I saved the company, Nathaniel. I kept it from collapsing into ruin while you were busy playing philanthropist!"
"You locked her in a basement twelve years ago," Nathaniel said coldly, pulling a set of master keys from his pocket—keys he had retrieved from Malcolm's private desk. He fitted the smallest key into the lock of the metal box. Click.
The lid sprang open.
Inside were stacks of legal documents, medical files from a private, unlicensed psychiatric facility on the outskirts of the state, and a series of handwritten diary entries penned in my mother's unmistakable handwriting.
Nathaniel pulled out a ledger and began to read. As his eyes scanned the pages, the color drained entirely from his face.
"My God..." Nathaniel whispered. "She was never near the river. You kept her locked in the sub-basement of the old facility in सेक्टर 4 for three years."
Malcolm shrugged lazily. "She eventually agreed to sign over her voting shares in exchange for her life. But then she got pregnant again—with the second child, the little girl you call Ruby. She smuggled herself out during a transfer. I spent years looking for her, but she was clever. She hid in the slums where no one of our class would ever deign to look."
"And the boy?" Nathaniel’s voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Where is Samuel?"
Malcolm’s smile widened, sharp and venomous. "He’s already on a private cargo flight bound for a secure estate in Zurich. By tomorrow morning, he’ll have a new name, a new passport, and he’ll never know a thing about the Graves family."
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Nathaniel didn't yell. Instead, he pulled out his phone, dialed a direct number, and spoke three words that made Malcolm’s smug smile vanish instantly.
"Ground the bird."
