Chapter 2 - The Autopsy ProtocolThe heavy mahogany doors of the Mercer estate library were locked from the inside.
Outside, the storm clouds that had gathered over Manhattan broke, sending sheets of freezing rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Hudson River. Inside, the room smelled of old leather, expensive bourbon, and lingering tension.
Alexander sat behind his father’s massive oak desk, the silver flash drive plugged directly into his encrypted terminal. The screen cast a harsh, blue glow across his angular face.
Grace stood near the fireplace, holding a cup of black coffee she hadn't touched. Across the room, Madeline sat handcuffed to a heavy iron chair, her designer dress wrinkled, her mascara streaked down her cheeks. Her father, Senator Harrison Prescott, stood beside her, his face purple with rage.
"This is an outrage!" Senator Prescott bellowed, slamming his fist onto the side table. "Alexander, my daughter is having a nervous breakdown because of this deranged servant! If you don't release her this second, I will have your corporate assets frozen by morning through emergency federal injunctions!"
Alexander didn't look up from the screen. A single audio file was playing on a loop.
"Eleanor, if you release those transfer records to the SEC, the merger dies. And so does your son's reputation," a synthesized voice hissed through the speakers.
"You can't threaten me with my own blood, Harrison," Eleanor Mercer's voice replied, sharp and steady despite her failing health. "I know what you did to the Lower East Side acquisitions. I know how you laundered the funds through shell companies in the Caymans. And God help me, Alexander will know before my heart gives out."
The room went dead silent.
Alexander slowly raised his head. His eyes weren't angry; they were chillingly dead. He looked at Senator Prescott, then shifted his gaze to Madeline.
"You forged the medical examiner's report," Alexander said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "My mother had a congenital heart condition, yes. But the toxicology report hidden in folder four proves she was administered digitalis poisoning three hours before she 'naturally' passed away in her sleep."
Madeline stopped sobbing. A slow, terrifying smile crept across her lips. She tilted her head, her manicured fingers tapping against the metal of the chair.
"You think you're so smart, Alexander," Madeline sneered, her voice dropping all pretense of sweetness. "You build skyscrapers, you manage billions, but you're utterly blind. Do you really think my father and I are the only ones who wanted your mother out of the picture?"
Alexander stood up slowly, leaning over the desk. "What are you talking about?"
"Look at the timestamp on file twelve," Madeline whispered, laughing darkly. "Your mother wasn't just investigating my family. She was investigating yours. She found out what your father did thirty years ago to build Mercer Global. And Grace... sweet, innocent little Grace... wasn't just your housekeeper."
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Grace flinched, stepping back toward the door.
"Tell him, Grace," Madeline taunted, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Tell him who you really are, and why your mother gave you that ribbon before Eleanor had her killed."
