Chapter 2 - Victor Hale’s Ultimatum
Back at The Gilded Spoon, the atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a steak knife.
The elite diners had resumed eating, pretending they hadn't just witnessed a scene straight out of a melodrama, but the low murmur of gossip hung heavy over the room. At a corner table near the windows, Victor Hale sat alone, swirling a glass of 2012 Château Margaux.
His phone buzzed on the white tablecloth. It was a text from the head of the Japanese investment syndicate, Tanaka: Where is Morgan? Our plane to Tokyo leaves at dawn. The expansion deal requires his signature.
Victor typed back calmly: A minor family emergency. He will be back shortly. Please hold.
A minute later, François the maître d’ approached cautiously, holding a silver tray with a folded bill. "Mr. Hale? Mr. Morgan left his jacket pocket notepad behind when he rushed out. I thought you might..."
Victor waved a hand, dismissing the maître d', but as François turned away, a small piece of paper slipped from the notepad and fluttered onto the table.
Victor glanced down. It wasn't a business note. It was an old, faded polaroid photograph, tucked neatly inside a leather sleeve.
Victor picked it up. His sharp, calculating eyes narrowed.
The photo showed a young woman with the exact same striking features as the sick girl—dark hair, and eyes that stared back with defiant, fierce pride. One blue, one amber. Written on the back in Richard’s sharp, neat handwriting was a date from fifteen years ago: Helen. August 14. The last goodbye.
Victor smiled slowly. A cold, dangerous smile.
He pulled out his own phone and dialed a private number—a corporate fixer he kept on retainer for hostile takeovers and delicate PR crises.
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"Listen to me very carefully, Marcus," Victor said softly into the receiver, watching the reflection of the glittering chandeliers in his wine glass. "Richard Morgan is about to be distracted by a ghost from his past. I want you to find out everything about his sister, Helen Morgan. Where she lived, how she died—or if she's even dead. And most importantly... find out if that little girl is her legal heir."
Victor hung up, taking a slow sip of wine. If Richard was going to throw away a nine-figure empire for a beggar child, Victor would simply pick up the pieces and lock him out for good.
