Chapter 5 - The Empire BleedsBy sunrise, the financial markets had opened, and the fallout from the Mercer Holdings data collapse was front-page news across Wall Street and international financial networks.
MERCER HOLDINGS SUFFERS CATASTROPHIC LIQUIDITY DRAIN; BILLIONS VANISH IN MINUTES.
Inside his high-security subterranean panic room beneath his Manhattan estate, Grant sat at a glass desk surrounded by three monitors displaying red warning alerts. His empire was hemorrhaging. Creditors were demanding immediate debt settlements; regulatory bodies were launching emergency audits; and regional capos in Chicago, Miami, and London were starting to smell blood in the water.
Marcus walked in, his arm wrapped in a tight gauze bandage from the Queens explosion.
"The fire department classified it as a localized gas leak, but we both know it wasn't," Marcus said, gritting his teeth in pain. "She led us into a trap, wiped out our liquidity reserves, and vanished into thin air. Boss, our associates in Europe are backing out of the port deal. They think we’re broke."
"We aren't broke," Grant said coldly, though his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. "We’re just liquid-constrained. But she didn't just target our corporate accounts."
Marcus blinked. "What do you mean?"
Grant tapped a key on his private terminal, bringing up a secure personal ledger—the one containing his private assets, properties, and hidden accounts completely separate from Mercer Holdings.
"She didn't just drain the corporate funds," Grant whispered, realization dawning with terrifying clarity. "She accessed my personal vault trust. The one holding my mother’s estate, my childhood home deeds, and every personal offshore reserve I’ve accumulated since I was twenty."
"Why would she take your personal assets? That money has nothing to do with corporate fraud," Marcus asked, stunned.
"Because she didn't steal them to keep them," Grant stood up slowly, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek. "She donated every single penny of my personal net worth to a hundred different public charities, orphanages, and forensic accountability funds under my own legal name."
Marcus stared at him in disbelief. "She... she gave away your entire personal fortune? You’re legally a pauper."
Grant let out a dark, humorless chuckle. He walked over to the massive wall mirror, looking at his reflection.
For three years, he had believed he was untouchable because he owned everything and everyone. He had looked at Evelyn and told her she meant nothing because he was terrified of admitting she was the only thing that actually mattered.
And now, she had stripped him of every single dollar, every corporate shield, and every ounce of false power.
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She had left him standing with nothing—just like she had been standing with nothing three years ago.
"Find her," Grant said, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register that made even Marcus shudder. "Not to kill her. Find her, and bring her to me."
