Chapter 5 - THE SHADOW PARTNER
The room suddenly felt cold again.
Andrew leaned in closer to Mary, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean, Mary? Ivy is in federal custody. It's over."
"No," Mary whispered, her breathing growing shallow as she struggled to speak through her weakness. "Ivy was just the executor. She didn't have the capital to fund the shell companies on her own. She had a silent partner. Someone within your inner circle, Andrew. Someone who has been pulling the strings from the very beginning."
Andrew’s mind raced. His inner circle was tiny. It consisted of him, Ivy, his lead investigator Marcus, and...
Arthur.
Arthur, the senior board member who had "warned" him not to sign the contract in the boardroom. Arthur, who had been like a father figure to Andrew since his early twenties.
Suddenly, Andrew’s phone buzzed. It was a text message from Marcus.
Andrew, we have a problem. The FBI transport carrying Ivy Lancaster was just ambushed on the interstate. Armed men broke her out. She’s gone.
Andrew’s phone slipped from his hand, clattering against the hospital floor.
He looked at Mary, then at Lauren, whose face had gone pale with sudden fear.
"Marcus," Andrew yelled, stepping out into the hallway. But the hallway was empty. The private security guards he had posted at the door were gone.
The lights in the hallway suddenly flickered and died, plunging the entire floor into darkness.
Emergency red lights clicked on, casting a blood-red glow over the sterile corridor.
"Andrew!" Mary screamed from inside the room.
Andrew spun around, but before he could reach the door, a heavy hand grabbed him from behind, slamming him against the wall. A forearm pressed hard against his throat, cutting off his air.
He looked into the eyes of his attacker.
It was Marcus.
"I'm sorry, boss," Marcus said, his face expressionless. "But Arthur pays much better than you do. And he doesn't let sentimentality get in the way of business."
Andrew choked, struggling to break the grip of his security chief, but Marcus was a former special forces operator. His grip was like iron.
From the shadows of the red-lit hallway, a figure walked slowly toward them.
It was Arthur, holding a silver cane, flanked by two armed men in tactical gear. Behind them, looking disheveled but victorious, was Ivy Lancaster.
"Andrew, my boy," Arthur said, his voice smooth and grandfatherly, though his eyes were completely dead. "You really should have just signed the papers in the boardroom. It would have been so much cleaner. Now, we have to do this the hard way."
"Arthur..." Andrew gasped, fighting for air. "Why?"
"Why?" Arthur chuckled softly. "Because Hale Meridian was never meant to be a legacy for you. It was built to be a laundromat for the cartel's billions. You got too clean, Andrew. You started asking too many questions, auditing too many accounts. Ivy was supposed to handle you gently, but she let her personal grudges get in the way."
Ivy stepped forward, her face twisted in a sneer. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small black device. "The hospital’s backup generators are offline. The entire wing is blacked out. In five minutes, the press will report a tragic power failure at Northwestern Memorial. Dozens of patients in the ICU will die. Including your beautiful little family."
"No," Andrew snarled, finding a sudden, desperate surge of strength. He threw his weight backward, slamming Marcus against the wall. Marcus grunted, his grip loosening just enough for Andrew to slip his arm free.
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Andrew threw a hard right hook, catching Marcus square in the jaw. Marcus stumbled back, but the two armed guards immediately raised their weapons, aiming directly at Andrew’s chest.
"End of the line, Andrew," Arthur said coldly. "Say goodbye to your daughter."
